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A DOUBLE LIFE 

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AN HYPNOTIC ROMANCE 


BV y 

HERBERT E. CHASE 

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NEW YORK 


S. W. GREEN’S SON, PUBLISHER 
69 Beekman Street ■ 

1884 







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Copyright, 1884, 

By CHARLES M. GREEN. 



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The Cha6 . m. Green pRtNTiNO Co., 

74 AND 76 BEEKMAN STREET, 
HEW YORK. 



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SD^bicateb 

BY THE AUTHOR TO 

HIS AMANUENSIS. 




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PREFACE. 


OWADAYS, when all are ready to ad- 
mit the psychological powers of certain 
men, — in these days, when the science of neu- 
rology is conceded to be the whole science of 
man, — in this period of our history, when the 
hitherto-hidden secrets of electricity are being 
exposed but not understood, — at this time, when 
the secret of what constitutes the human mind is 
being so rapidly discovered, when the thinking 
men and women of the world have cast aside big- 
otry, prejudice, and scepticism, and stand ready 
to accept truth from whatever source it may 
come, we have felt justified in placing before the 
public this volume. 

If it shows signs of having been hastily writ- 


4 


PREFACE. 


ten, do not think that its main features — the 
metaphysical, theological, legal, medical, or sci- 
entific portions — have not been most carefully 
considered and thoroughly digested. 

The story of Starr Cross was not made public 
that its author might ventilate his opinions; 
neither were these opinions expressed to cause 
the story to appear more reasonable. 

Do not too hastily declare that anything that 
is herein narrated is an imposs’bility, or that it 
was the conception of a vivid imagination ; for 
recollect that 


“There are more things in heaven and earth, 
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” 


A DOUBLE LIFE 


CHAPTER I. 

H UNDER! What is that?” cried a 



young man stumbling against some 
obstacle in his way ; “ I wish the city or the boys 
of the club would place a light in this alley,” he 
continued as he commenced investigations. “ Oh, 
some drunken man has crawled in here to sleep 
off some of the effects of the bad rum he has 
been indulging in, before going home to kick up 
a row there. . Why do men get drunk? And 
if they must do so, why, in the name of all that’s 
good, don’t they work Off the effects of their 
liquor where they get it?” Here he stopped 
with a second exclamation of surprise: “Why, 
it is a woman ! but perhaps she may be intoxi- 
cated. No? This is strange! Who is she? 
Where^ did she come from? How came she 


6 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


here? Clothes wet with this drizzling rain. 
She must have been here some time. I wonder 
some of the boys who get here before I do 
did not find her. Is she dead? or asleep? or 
what is the matter ? Something must be done. 
Watch! Watch! D — those police! Of course 
they are not around. Madam! Miss! Wake 
up! What is the matter? What shall I do? 
Stand here, and talk like the fool I usually am, 
I suppose. No, I will go in and get some of the 
boys to help me.” So saying, the young man 
laid down the head that he had been resting on 
his knee, and hastened to the club-house, a few 
rods further down the alley. 

It was a wet, disagreeable evening in early Sep- 
tember, 1850. One of those misty, uncomfortable 
nights that only New York city can produce. 
The time was between eight and nine o’clock; 
the place, an alley or way leading off from Fourth 
Avenue, seemingly for no, other purpose than to 
give access to a building in the rear of the 
avenue, used at the time of which we write as a 
club-house. There was a lantern over the door of 
this structure, which was lighted on state occa^ 
sions only, and what little light penetrated into 
the passage was from a street-lamp on the op- 
posite side of the avenue. The club occupied 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


7 


the whole building, haying reading, billiard and 
dining-rooms on the lower floor, and several 
apartments on the second, including a bed- 
chamber used by the janitor who had charge of 
the building, and, we might add, at times, some 
of the members as well. 

On the evening of which we speak, but two or 
three club men were present, and these were 
lounging about the reading-room, smoking and 
grumbling in discontented tones at the weather 
and its dispiriting effect upon themselves. They 
were vainly trying to arouse their interest in the 
usual evening amusements, when the door 
opened with a crash, and an ejaculation of 
“ Boys, come quick. Here’s a woman in the 
alley, either asleep, dead or drunk!” No second 
invitation was needed ; here was something 
which promised, if not amusement, at least tem- 
porary diversion, and out they went, stopping 
neither for umbrellas or hats. 

The)^ found the woman still lying there, mo- 
tionless and unconscious, her clothing now fairly 
soaked with the rain. What was to be done ? 
There seemed but one thing possible to their feel- 
ings of humanity, and, without wasting time in 
discussion, they raised her carefully and bore her 
to the nearest building, the club-house. It was 


8 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


not an occasion on which to consider the ques- 
tion of propriety. Here was a woman uncon- 
scious, perhaps dying ; or, it might be, dead. 
What mattered it, then, who she was ? She might 
have been so low that none of them at any other 
time would have given her a second thought, 
but now she was mutely appealing for help and 
sympathy, and she received them both. They 
laid her upon a sofa and then looked at her and 
at each other. They did not see before them a 
coarse, degraded wretch, as they had rather ex- 
•pected. On the contrary, they saw a woman 
of perhaps twenty years of age, with soft, light 
hair, delicate and high-bred features, and with 
those sensitive lines around the mouth which 
so clearl)^ indicate culture ; and yet, blended 
with these proofs of former refined surround- 
ings, was a care-worn look. 

“ Doctor,” asked one of the men, “ What is 
the matter with her ?” The man addressed as 
“Doctor” made no immediate reply. He 
seemed lost in thought, looking intently at the 
inanimate form before him. The rest, too, re- 
mained silent, feeling that whatever was to be 
done, the only physician among them should 
take the initiative. 

“ I think,” at last replied the Doctor, “ that 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


9 


she has only fainted, and yet, for all I can tell, 
she may be dying.” 

I wish, Elmer,” he added, “you would bring 
me some wine ; you, Phil, would call John, and 
send him after his mother or wife (I think he 
has one or the other) ; and if you, Henry, will go 
round and bring Dr. Kean, I will, in the mean- 
time, do what I can to restore this poor lady.” 

“For she is a lady,” soliloquized the Doctor, 
as his friends left the room to attend to his 
directions. “ She is a lady ; I should know that, 
even if she were less richly dressed. I Avonder 
where I have seen a face like that? It must be 
one of the many faces I see in dreams, but never 
expected to behold in waking moments.” 

Here the young man whom he had addressed 
as Elmer entered and handed him the wine. 

The Doctor at once commenced trying to 
force apart her teeth, which were so firmly set 
that it required much time. He succeeded at 
last in getting a small quantity of the wine into 
her mouth, and, after chafing her hands and 
head for a few moments, was rewarded by sure 
indications of life, followed by a gradual open- 
ing of her eyes. She gave them but one short 
glance, and then the lids dropped again, but 
there was something in that momentary glimpse 


lO 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


that made both the men by her side start back. 
Her eyes were large, lustrous, and dreamy, of 
that bluish-black color which is ever changing 
in tint. But there was a strangeness about 
them, a nature entirely different from that of 
the other features, which, in spite of their re- 
finement, were not remarkable; and withal, an 
expression so contrary to that dreamy look, 
that one involuntarily felt that they read one’s 
every secret thought. They seemed to draw, 
and yet repel, and gave the impression that they 
were something unreal, or, as the Scotch say, 
uncanny. 

The Doctor gave her more of the wine, when 
she again unclosed the eyes that had so at- 
tracted and startled them, and said, a little 
dreamily, “ Where am I ? Who are you ?” 

“You are in safe quarters,” replied the Doc- 
tor, “and we are friends, whom you may trust. 
My name is Hendon, and — ” He was inter- 
rupted by the entrance of D-octor Kean, with 
the young man who had gone in search of him. 

“ I am glad Henry found you. Doctor,” said 
Hendon. Then, lowering his voice, “ This, you 
see, is a case that needs careful attention, and I 
felt that it called for an older and more expe- 
rienced physician than myself.” 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


II 


“ Oh,” responded Doctor Kean, “ you should 
have more confidence in yourself. Mr. Brome 
had just been telling me the circumstances under 
which this woman fell into your care.” 

The two physicians now gave their attention 
to the case before them, and, after a short con- 
sultation, it was decided that, in her present 
condition, it would be not only injudicious, but 
positively unsafe to remove her. She was, 
therefore, carried to the chamber occupied by 
John, and made as comfortable as the limited 
means at hand would allow. 

“It would be well to send out for some 
woman,” said Doctor Kean. 

“ That has been attended to. I sent John 
after his wife or mother, as soon as I perceived 
the poor woman’s condition,” replied Doctor 
Hendon. 

There was an unusual quiet in the building 
that evening. The weather was so unpleasant 
that few of the members came in, and these, on 
learning what had happened, and that it was no 
common woman who had come so suddenly 
into their masculine quarters, seemed anxious 
that nothing should disturb the stillness, that for 
once had fallen over the place. Now and then, 
John’s wife, who had arrived, and had, with 


12 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


womanly tact and skill, at once taken her place 
in the sick-room, would send her husband to 
their home for some needed article. Once 
Doctor Hendon entered the room where the 
others were assembled — not the *'gay and fes- 
tive M. D.,” as his friends were wont to call 
him, but the grave, dignified physician ; for 
now it was work, not play, in which he was 
engaged. 

He was immediately plied with questions, 
“How is she?” “Who is she?” “ ^hat ac- 
count does she give of herself?” and the like. 

Doctor Hendon replied to all at once. “ She 
says but very little, and is evidently as yet un- 
conscious of her surroundings. We do not 
know who she is, or where she comes from, but 
she is a very sick woman, and we have grave 
doubts of her recovery. But,” he added, as he 
left the room, “ we may save the baby, and let 
us hope that, if she must sacrifice her life for 
that of her child, she may at least live to see it.” 

After this, but little was said by any one, and 
what little conversation was made was carried 
on in that low, subdued tone, that seems to 
belong to the sick-room. Slowly the minutes 
massed into hours, unmarked by any change, in 
the room where the men were waiting, save 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


13 


that once or twice low moans were heard, and 
now and then John’s wife passed through on 
some errand. A dog came into the alley, and 
commenced to howl, but was promptly driven 
away. One man, who was leaning on the man- 
tel, gazing at the fire in the open grate, said to 
another, “ Al, did you ever hear that clock tick 
so loud before?” ‘‘No,” replied the other, 
“ and did you notice what a sombre, dirge-like 
sound the rain has ?” One after another would 
suddenly rise, take his hat and umbrella, and 
pass quietly out. 

It lacked but a few minutes of twelve o’clock, 
when, just as the last two were about to leave, 
they stopped, hearing the door of the sick-room 
open. No one came down stairs, however, but 
in that brief moment came to their ears, low 
and sad, like the wind and rain outside, the wail- 
ing cry of an infant ; and they departed, know- 
ing that from that hour would date the com- 
mencement of a new life, but with no knowledge 
that a mother’s life had been given for that 
child ; nor could they know the pain and sor- 
row, the hopes and fears, the prayers and regrets 
that went out with that life. Not pain and 
sorrow resulting from the commission or omis- 
sion of the sufferer, for she departed as pure as 


14 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


when she came ; not hopes and fears engendered 
by any doubt of the hereafter, for that was a 
subject she little understood. Her pain and 
sorrow were for acts beyond her control ; her 
hopes and fears were for her offspring; her 
prayers were for the future of her child that 
had been so inauspiciously cast upon the world, 
and her regrets were that the influence that she 
feared was impressed upon her child might not 
have come from her own pure nature. 

She has never done a wrong; others have 
through her. She is dead, and though she has 
ever lived without sin, she will be buried with- 
out tears or mourning, for she has no friends. 
The child lives; read, and then ask yourself, 
Was it well that he did live? 


CHAPTER IL 


T T was a full meeting of the Fourth Avenue 
^ Club. A notice had been sent to each mem- 
ber requesting his attendance, as business of im- 
portance was to be brought before the meeting. 
A month had passed since the birth of the child 
at their rooms, under such remarkable circum- 
stances, and the understanding that on this 
evening some action was to be taken in the 
matter was enough to call out every member. 

They made altogether a fine body of men, of 
ages ranging from twenty to forty years ; men 
of education and refinement, many of them 
scholars and scientists, all more or less interested 
in the questions of the day, and looking upon 
their association together rather as a means of 
progress than of mere social enjoyment. 

The ordinary business was attended to, and 
then the chairman rose and said that the chief 
object of their assembling together, that evening, 


1 6 A DOUBLE LIFE. 

was in relation to the friendless child born 
under that roof. He stated that a committee 
had been appointed to take charge of the matter, 
and called upon Dr. Hendon to report its 
progress. 

Dr. Hendon rose and stated that he had 
made diligent inquiries about the matter; he 
had advertised in all the dailies; the police had 
tried to solve the mystery ; but all the informa- 
tion the committee had been able to gain was 
that afforded by the statements of the woman 
herself, and that was very slight. 

“Perhaps the members would like to have 
you repeat your views on that subject, Doctor,” 
said the chairman. “ I find the notices have 
called out some of our number who have not 
been with us before for months.” 

“I suppose,” responded the Doctor, “that 
most of you are already acquainted with the 
circumstances connected with this affair, so far 
as the finding of the woman, the birth of the 
child, and her own death ; yet her statements, 
while they throw no light on the question of 
her identity, are interesting, inasmuch as they 
seem to intensify rather than in any way to 
clear up the mystery. Dr. Kean took down the 
substance of her rather incoherent remarks, a 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


17 


part of which were replies to questions put by 
Dr. Kean or myself, a part a rambling recital, 
or answers to some imaginary person with 
whom she seemed to be talking. 

At no time did she act naturally, but rather as 
if she were asleep, or partially under the influ- 
ence of an anaesthetic, yet conscious of her ap- 
proaching end and of her inability to go some- 
where to this imaginary being to whom she 
seemed to address her conversation. She would 
repeat over and over the words, ^ I can’t come to 
you, Starr, I can’t come.* At first we thought 
she referred to some inanimate thing ; but before 
she died we learned that ^ Starr ’ was the name 
of some person who appeared to exercise a 
strong influence over her, so strong that her 
last words, as John’s wife placed her infant by 
her side, were — ^ Starr’s child ! ’ A moment later 
she was dead. 

She talked much about the child, of ‘Starr’s* 
pleasure at its birth, and of the wonderful 
power it would have ; and here let me say, 
gentlemen, that the infant is a most remark- 
able one. Excepting in its eyes it does not 
resemble its mother in any way, and in them 
only with regard to their size, for while the 
mother’s must have been at times soft and 


i8 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


dreamy, the child’s are strangely bright and 
sharp and very attractive. It has a large head, 
and strong and well-developed limbs. Dr. Kean 
remarked that in all his practice he had never 
seen an infant so animated. On its left breast is 
a well-defined cross. There would be nothing 
uncommon in this, for there are but few of us 
who do not carry a birth-mark; but it is a 
singular coincidence that we took from the dead 
mother’s finger a massive gold ring set with 
pearls in the form of a cross, surrounded by 
four star-shaped diamonds. The ring is a 
curiosity in itself, and of great value. This 
may yet serve as a clew. 

Everything about the woman indicated wealth 
and refinement, and yet, with all the effort we 
have made, we have been unable to find any one 
who knows anything about her. While she was 
at the Morgue, there were hundreds who called 
to view her remains ; but none could say they 
had ever seen her before. We did not deem it 
best, under the circumstances, to allow her to 
be buried in the Potter’s Field, so we saw that 
she was decently interred. The boy we have 
placed in the care of John’s wife. We expected 
that we should, before now, have discovered 
some clew that would lead to the discovery of 


I 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 1 9 

the lady’s relatives, and while we should have 
been justified in delivering both mother and 
child over to the city, and under ordinary 
circumstances should have done so, the rich 
dress and jewelry that she wore were a sufficient 
guarantee that her immediate connections would 
pay any expense we might be put to. Besides, 
we thought, from day to day and from week to 
week, that the mystery surrounding her would 
be explained and her identity made known. 
Her clothes and jewelry are in the hands of 
the police department, awaiting the claim that 
would at once clear up the obscurity that now 
shrouds the whole case. 

“ As I said in the beginning, all the information 
we have is to be found in her rambling state- 
ments which were taken down by Dr. Kean, 
and of which I have given you the substance. 
We could not get her to tell her name. She 
would not talk about herself, or her former 
connections and surroundings. Most of her 
talk was to this ‘ Starr,’ and that was so incom- 
prehensible that we could make comparatively 
nothing out of it. This is all the report that I 
can make.” 

Dr. Hendon seated himself, and the chairman 
again rose and said : “ Gentlemen, this meeting 

\ 


20 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


was called at the suggestion of some of my 
brother members who thought that, inasmuch 
as the boy was born in our domain, and the 
expenses have so far been borne by the com- 
mittee appointed from our number, the whole 
matter had become a part of the business of the 
club, and the question to be disposed of at this 
time is — What shall be done with our newest 
and youngest member?” 

“ I move,” said one, ‘‘ that if he is not called 
for, we adopt him.” 

Good ! good !” was the cry that echoed 
through the room. The idea was a novel one, 
and was mentioned at first as a jest, but for 
some reason it found favor, and after some 
discussion of the matter it was decided that the 
baby, who had been so unceremoniously thrust 
upon them, should be the prot^gd of the club; 
that the money required for its care should be 
taken from the treasury and the general manage- 
ment of the matter should be left with a 
committee then and there appointed. 

Thus began the life of a being that was to 
exercise unknown powers, a weird strange life, 
that might forever leave it an open question 
whether it were well that he lived. Has there 
lived, will there ever live, a man with more bad 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


21 


than good in him? Can we say of any one 
after he has gone hence to that new awakening 
or to endless sleep, that it were better had he 
never been born? Is there an unseen power 
that takes (to us) doubtful measures to elevate 
mankind in the rapid growth toward a perfect 
civilization ? Have we, under any circumstances, 
a right to gauge good and evil from our own 
stand-point? These are questions that will meet 
us as we review the life of that child born in a 
club-house. 


CHAPTER III. 


IME passed, and the club still held its meet- 



ings in the old building in the rear of 
Fourth Avenue. For some time the event with 
which our story opened was the leading topic of 
conversation every evening; and when one of 
the committee in whose charge the child’s affairs 
were placed appeared, he was instantly beset 
with questions as to whether anything new in 
the matter had occurred. The answer was al- 
most invariably, “ There is nothing new to tell 
you.” Sometimes a fancied clew to the child’s 
identity would be taken up by the police, but 
always had to be abandoned as leading to noth- 
ing satisfactory. 

At last the search was given up, and the boy 
finally adopted by the club, much to the satis- 
faction of Dr. Hendon, who had been from the 
first deeply interested in him ; while his friends, 
considering their duty in the matter done, now 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


23 


went back to their old routine of talk and study, 
and seldom remembered for more than a few 
moments their baby protegd and his uncere- 
monious advent among them. Now and then 
the matter of money needed for his support 
came before them, but the larger part of the 
expense had been borne by Hendon. 

The Doctor was wealthy. He had no family, 
having never been married, yet he kept the old 
home left him by his deceased father. 

He was a man of deep thought and, had he 
been poor and obliged to rely on his own exer- 
tions, would have done well in any position in 
which he might have been placed, but more 
than all, he found' his little charge developing 
day by day into a study — a wonder. 

The club at one of its meetings, held about 
the time the infant was adopted by them, had 
given him the name of Starr Cross. The first 
name suggested itself from the fact of the 
mother so constantly calling “Starr! Starr!” 
“And the Cross was added,” as one of the 
facetious members said. It was, however, made 
a part of the child’s name by Dr. Hendon, 
who still clung to the somewhat romantic view 
that the birth-mark of a cross upon the child’s 
breast and the peculiar ring taken from its dead 


24 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


mother’s finger had some connection, and in 
this belief he had been strengthened by the 
vein of reading and thinking into which he had 
fallen of late years. 

Little Starr was a study, and it is no wonder 
that his benefactor found in him food for many 
of the new theories that he had adopted. 

While at college the Doctor had a room- 
mate named James, who was a somnambulist 
in a remarkable degree. This young man would 
rise in his sleep, dress himself, go out, and be 
gone for hours. Returning, he would bring in 
plants, flowers, and roots, which he would 
classify and arrange in a cabinet he kept for 
the purpose. James never took any interest in 
botany in his waking moments, and could hardly 
tell one flower from another ; yet while asleep, 
he not only arranged the plants in their order, 
giving them their classical names, but was never 
known to bring home two specimens of a kind, 
or a leaf or flower that he had already obtained. 

This singular characteristic of his room-mate 
made a deep impression upon the Doctor. He 
watched his friend night after night; he fol- 
lowed him in his wanderings ; he noticed that 
James never went to the same place twice; he 
saw, too, that he possessed a wonderful faculty 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


25 


of avoiding all obstacles — obstacles that the Doc- 
tor himself would certainly have encountered 
had he been alone ; and all this the somnam- 
bulist did without the aid of his eyes, which in 
these night ramblings remained closed. 

This was a subject for thought and specula- 
tion which was fascinating, and Hendon took 
so strong an interest in it that he found himself 
neglecting his academic studies. James could 
give him little information. “ It was a peculiar- 
ity,” he said, “ that he had been told his father 
before him had shown, though in a less degree.” 
He further informed the Doctor that he never 
felt any fatigue from his nocturnal travels. His 
mind (in sleep) would seem to be absorbed on 
one subject for days and weeks, and sometimes 
for months, and then would change and take up 
some other matter, but never worked in unison 
with his waking thoughts. 

Always occupying himself in this sleep-walk- 
ing state with some subject in which he was not 
at other times interested, he thereby subjected 
himself at times to great inconvenience, by ex- 
pending money in his schemes that he could ill 
afford to spare from his regular college ex- 
penses. I feel,” said he, “ as if I were living 
two lives in one. I have not the slightest 


26 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


knowledge of what I do when asieep, and yet 
this other existence keeps me constantly anxious 
lest I commit some act entailing upon me much 
trouble, if not the forfeit of my life.” 

The more Dr. Hendon investigated the sub- 
ject of somnambulism, the more he was con- 
vinced that it was but little understood. At 
that time his researches led him to read all the 
treatises upon it that he could obtain, and he 
was assisted in this by his friend James. They 
together tried many experiments, but these 
aided them but little, except, perhaps, to dem- 
onstrate the fact that sleep-walking was less 
likely to occur when the somnambulist was 
much tired or under the influence of some 
narcotic. 

James' case differed from most of the others 
that they found described, and was also more 
interesting, in that, while in ordinary cases the 
sleep-walker was said to perform his customary 
work, James never was known to do so, but, on 
the contrary, acted in opposition to his likes 
and dislikes while awake, thus conflicting with 
the hypothesis that certain faculties are wake- 
ful, open to impressions, and actuated by voli- 
tion; while others, and the mind in general, are 
plunged in profound unconsciousness. In this 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


27 


instance the phenomena were not acted dreams 
or delusions ; James could not be deceived 
while in this state, but seemed to be acutely 
alive to his surroundings. 

This, as we have said, made a deep impres- 
sion on the Doctor, and after leaving college he 
continued his study of the matter until about 
the time little Starr was born. Just prior to 
that he had taken up, in connection with sleep- 
walking, Spiritualism,- it having attracted his 
attention a few 3^ears before by a little pamphlet 
of forty or fifty pages, treating on the subject 
of the Fox mystery, in or near Rochester, N. Y. 
While his investigations in this new field were 
not as satisfactory as he would have liked, there 
was much connected with the phenomena that 
was interesting to a mind at work upon similar 
topics. He did not undertake the unravelling 
of the mystery from any sceptical standpoint, 
but rather as a branch of the subject that was 
still engrossing his attention. While he found 
much that was false, and more that could be 
explained by natural causes, he did discover 
certain phases of the new doctrine that were 
unexplainable by any laws with which he was 
acquainted. As the belief in it grew in the 
world, and mediums, so called, would in this 


28 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


trance state do things that it seemed impossible 
for them to do unassisted — would read, write 
and declaim in a manner that he was compelled 
to admit they were incapable of in a natural 
condition, each case withal appearing much 
like that of his old friend, — Dr. Hendon put 
new vigor into his work. He no longer con- 
fined himself to the study of somnambulism, 
but eagerly read everything that in any way 
touched upon the subject of the power of mind 
over the body, such as electro-biology, odylism, 
animal magnetism, mesmerism, and the like; 
and the year 1850 found him, after fifteen years 
of study, convinced that, while it would be 
difficult to explain to others many of the con- 
clusions at which he had arrived, he was on the 
right track to the discovery of important truths. 
While at times his theories were mere con- 
jectures, he continued his investigations until 
they became verified or explained. This he 
would do with e’^ch new speculation, so that, 
while many of his hypotheses were limited to 
his own process of imagining as possible causes, 
he consoled himself with the thought that the 
world had accepted theories as facts with far 
less proof than he had required to satisfy him- 
self. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


29 


“ What actual knowledge have we,” he would 
reason, “ that the ethereal substance whose un- 
dulations are supposed to constitute light in its 
passage from the sun to the earth has a real 
existence ? Newton had but a theory, when he 
said that the force of gravity on the earth, as 
exemplified in falling bodies, might extend to 
the moon and might be the power that com- 
pelled it to circle round the earth instead of 
going off in a straight line through space. It 
was only received as a speculation at the time, 
but to-day we accept it as fact — do we know it 
to be a fact ? What is gravitation but a supposed 
force ?” 

Again,” he meditated, “the question of the 
origin of the sun’s light and heat has several 
times been settled to the satisfaction of astron- 
omers, yet always has arisen again, as some 
new discovery or invention proved the last 
theory false. It has been the labor of astron- 
omers to ascertain the distance, size, and na- 
ture of that great luminary upon which not only 
our well-being, but our very existence, de- 
pends; and what is the result? We are told 
now that, as the particles which form the sun 
have gradually come together under the in- 
fluence of gravitation, the result has been the 


30 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


conversion of potential energy into motion or 
kinetic energy, and of the latter into heat, and 
this vague and unsatisfactory theory will be ac- 
cepted as the true one until another is advanced. 

“ When Thales, six hundred years before 
Christ, found that two pieces of amber rubbed 
together would attract light and dry bodies, he 
did not know that the cause of this phenomenon 
was the great power which to-day is called 
electricity. Gilbert, of Colchester, wlien he 
published his book called ‘ De Arte Magnetica ’ 
in 1600 A.D., thought he had exhausted the sub- 
ject. A hundred and forty )^ears after this, 
Dufay stated to the world, that there were 
two kinds of electricity, and was laughed at 
by the learned men of his day. Not until 
Armstrong designed his hydro-electric ma- 
chine, some twenty years ago, was there much 
interest manifested in this science, but since 
that time rapid progress has been made in it. 
But what is electricity? Who can answer? 
What are its powers? Who can tell? All 
that is known is that if certain things are done, 
certain results will follow. Professor Morse 
was not able to explain the power which he 
showed the world in his telegraph. He could 
only say, ‘ It is a power which can be utilized 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


31 


for the good of man.’ The science is still in 
its infancy, wise men tell us, and the only rea- 
son they can give for this statement is that 
new discoveries concerning its powers are con- 
stantly being made, and as constantly surprising 
those who think they at least partially under- 
stand it. There are many theories, and out of 
them will come the truth. 

‘‘ So it is with mesmerism. We cannot ex- 
plain its causes ; all we can do is to satisfy 
ourselves that this mesmeric power does exist. 
Take some bright object and hold it between 
the fingers of the left hand, about a foot from 
the eyes of some person on whom you wish to 
experiment, in such a position above the fore- 
head as to produce the greatest strain upon 
the eyes compatible with a fixed stare at the 
object; then, directing the person to rivet his 
attention on the object at which he is gazing, 
you will notice that his pupils will at first con- 
tract, but soon considerably dilate. Now after 
they are well dilated, let the first and second 
fingers of your right hand extend, a little sepa- 
rated, and carry them from the bright object 
toward the patient’s eyes. You will probably 
see his eyelids close with a vibratory motion, 
and in fifteen or twenty seconds you will find 


32 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


that he is unconscious. You will discover that 
all the special senses, except sight, are at first 
extremely exalted, as also are the muscular 
sense and the sensibility to heat and cold ; but 
after a time this exaltation is followed by a 
state of depression far greater than the torpor 
of natural sleep. This is called h3^pnotism, and 
the person acted upon is hypnotized. No- 
tice the rigidity of the muscles and the pro- 
found torpor of the nervous system, and tell 
me why this is so. This is not without use to 
the medical fraternity, for we find that many 
operations of surgery have been performed 
upon patients in this hypnotized state, with- 
out pain. Now go further. Discard the 
bright object, fix your mental power on the 
person whom you wish to control, look him 
directly in the eye and, with absolute repose 
of the body and general quietude, a feeling of 
stupor will be experienced by him. It is not 
the eye alone that does this, for the experi- 
ment succeeds with the blind. We must 
grant that there are unknown powers at 
work. Gravity, heat, electricity are estab- 
lished natural agents ; but until we under- 
stand all the laws governing them, we are 
not certain of the limit of their power. The 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


33 


day may come when some force shall be found 
to explain all these phenomena that are now 
so puzzling, and perhaps prove that all these 
apparently different agents are but varied 
manifestations of the same power.” 

The Doctor’s arguments were unanswerable, 
and soon his friends learned not only to respect 
his views, but to consult his opinion on any 
subject to which he had given his attention. 
Is it any wonder that, when he found the child 
in his care growing up a living proof of what 
before he had considered one of his many 
theories that would never be demonstrated a 
fact, he was deeply interested in him? Dr. 
Hendon would not have been satisfied with 
the views of any other man on the subject of 
mesmerism, but would always have been scep- 
tical, had he not found that the ability to con- 
trol others was strong in himself. It is true 
he found there were only few over whom he 
could exert this power, and he felt he had 
gained another step when he saw that he could 
tell just what person he could put into a mes- 
meric trance. But here was a young boy, a 
mere child who could give him instruction in 
powers that seemed superhuman. 

Dr. Hendon’s attention was first called to 


34 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


young Starr’s peculiarities by Mrs. Holt, the 
woman in whose charge he had been placed 
when but an infant. She, on one of the Doc- 
tor’s visits, when he came to pay her for her 
services, asked him to observe the peculiar at- 
titude of the cat, with which the child, then 
about two years old, was playing. The animal 
lay as if dead, and the boy was pulling it here 
and there. 

‘‘Why, what is the matter with the cat? Is 
it dead ?” exclaimed the Doctor. 

“ No,” responded Mrs. Holt, “ I first noticed 
the cat’s willingness to allow baby to abuse her 
almost a year ago, when I first brought it home, 
a little kitten. I noticed that Starr was struck 
with amazement to see the little thing gambol 
about the room. I thought he was frightened, 
for his eyes that are always so bright, seemed 
larger and more shining, but I soon saw my 
mistake, when the kitten began to move tow- 
ards him and he held out his tiny hands and 
cooed. Would you believe it, the kitten actu- 
ally went up to that baby and kept as still as 
death, while he played with it till he was tired. 
It never once tried to scratch or bite him, how- 
ever roughly he handled it. Since then it has 
been his constant companion, and now that he 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 35 

has commenced to walk alone, it follows him 
like a little dog.” 

“ This is strange,” said the Doctor, and he 
went up to examine the cat. He was still more 
surprised when he found, on taking it up, that 
it seemingly was void of life ; cn carrying it to 
the door, however, it revived. 

The Doctor brought back the kitten, and 
placing it upon the floor, commenced a conver- 
sation with Mrs. Holt, but kept his eyes upon 
the child and cat. His surprise can be im- 
agined when he saw Starr fix his eyes on his 
pet, who immediately seemed to be mesmer- 
ized, and walked directly towards him. “ Can it 
be,” the Doctor asked himself, “ that this child 
has such a power over animals as this seems to 
indicate? I will prove it.” Whereupon he 
went out, and after a short time reappeared 
with a small dog, which he told Mrs. Holt he 
considered a better companion for a boy than 
a cat would be. 

She at once acquiesced, as in duty bound, 
for she well knew she was getting a great 
deal of money for very little work. The Doc- 
tor watched the child as the dog was untied from 
the string which had been attached to him, to 
enable the Doctor to bring him to the house. 


36 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


The child looked old beyond his years, Dr. 
Hendon noticed. The dog at first crawled 
under a chair. Hendon saw that Starr was 
looking intently at this new kind of animal 
which commenced to show signs of uneasi- 
ness, moving back against the wall, and then 
crouching as if in fear, but the child seemed 
to be aware of his powers, and continued to 
gaze. Mrs. Holt was so interested in telling 
her visitor all the little gossip of the place, 
that nothing but a thunderbolt would have 
called her attention away from her subject. 
She was much pleased to see the Doctor sit- 
ting familiarly down, and taking so much in- 
terest, apparently, in her stories, but he did 
did not hear a word she was saying. His 
whole attention was absorbed in watching the 
child and its new pet. Soon the dog moved 
out from under the chair and whined ; still the 
little child looked; still the woman continued 
to tell what she thought of her next-door neigh- 
bor, who allowed more than one young man to 
call on her daughter, and still the man before 
her was oblivious of everything but the child 
and dog. 

The animal crawled toward little Starr, 
slowly as if in fear, and yet as if it could not 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


37 


help doing so; crawled until it reached the 
feet of the little boy, who knew his power so 
well that he did not at any time make any 
demonstrations toward going to the dog, for 
he realized that he could compel it to come to 
him, and so it did ; and the Doctor left the 
house, — left it without bidding good old Mrs. 
Holt good-day ; left it without taking the re- 
ceipt that she had laboriously prepared for him 
(for she prided herself on her business quality 
and made it her rule always to give a receipt 
when any money was paid her) ; left it with 
the knowledge that the child who had always 
seemed strange to him, not only had given him 
that day a glimpse of a power he himself had 
before been ready to accept as existing, but had 
never seen exercised, but by his act seemed to 
throw a new light upon the dying utterances of 
his mother, which Hendon had taken for the 
ravings of insanity. 


CHAPTER IV. 


T~\OCTOR HENDON tvook his ward home 
when Starr was about four years old. He 
showed himself a precocious child, and even at 
that age was as far advanced as many children at 
nine or ten. He seemed never to have been a 
baby, caring nothing for the amusements which 
usually interested little ones. He found his great- 
est pleasure in his pets, of which the Doctor 
gave him many. He possessed rabbits, dogs, 
cats, squirrels, and mice, and would spend his 
time playing, sometimes with one alone, but 
oftener with them all. His guardian noticed 
that none were free from his mesmeric control, 
though it was manifested differently in the vari- 
ous animals. After he had learned to read, Starr 
divided his time between his pets and the books 
that the Doctor procured for him. He showed 
so strong a preference for books treating of 
animals, that Doctor Hendon generally pur- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


39 


chased them rather than the ordinary story- 
books. 

Starr never cared for the company of children 
of his own age, and singularly enough the little 
folks seemed to have a certain fear of him and 
would cry whenever he came near them, though 
he appeared perfectly indifferent with regard to 
them. There was one exception to this rule, 
however, which his guardian noticed when the 
boy was six or seven years old ; and this excep- 
tion is worthy of note. 

Doctor Hendon owned the whole estate run- 
ning through from the street on which his 
dwelling-house was built to another back street 
running parallel with the first. In a fit of gen- 
erosity he had built a house on this back street, 
for the use of one of his servants for whom he 
felt a special regard and who was to be mar- 
ried. Between the two houses was a high fence 
which cut olf all communication between them, 
save through a small door cut into this fence for 
the benefit of his servant. This had been done 
some years prior to the advent of little Starr. 

One morning Doctor Hendon had been look- 
ing for Starr in the garden, and not finding him 
there, was about to return to the house to in- 
quire of the nurse the boy’s whereabouts, when, 


40 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


seeing the small gate in the fence ajar, he glanced 
through into the other yard. There he beheld 
the child he was in search of seated placidly on 
a low garden chair, his cat and rabbits at his 
feet, and his dog performing his most curious 
tricks for the apparent edification of a wee bit 
of a girl who was standing near, her little hands 
clasped behind her, her head bent forward, and 
her lips apart. This child could not have been 
more than three years old, — a small, slender, un- 
healthy-looking creature, with hair almost white, 
eyes so very light that only a close scrutiny 
could reveal any color whatever in them, a nose 
that looked pinched as if by a protracted illness, 
and beneath it a small mouth now open, disclos- 
ing uneven teeth that even at her early age had 
begun to decay. A child that one might safely 
predict would not see its fifth year. There were 
tear-stains on the pallid cheeks, and the color- 
less eyes were filled with unshed drops. What 
did this mean, thought the Doctor, as he awaited 
further developments. He perceived that while 
Starr was trying to amuse his companion by 
the clever tricks of his dog, he was watching 
her very closely, and giving but a small share 
of his attention to the animal. Hendon was 
too well acquainted with his ward’s will-power 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


41 


to be surprised at seeing the little girl draw 
gradually nearer to Starr until at last she stood 
close beside him. 

From that time Starr was often found in the 
company of this child ; yet they never played 
together as other children do ; the boy showed 
no more affection for her than for his dogs 
and cats, and the Doctor doubted his hav- 
ing any love for them, for he never seemed to 
evince any sorrow at the loss of a pet, provided 
he could get another to replace it. The little girl, 
from the time that Starr first saw her, seemed 
to gain new life ; the change was so marked 
that all who knew her noticed and wondered. 
She was always happy when with Starr, and 
was his servant, his slave. She never complained 
of his treatment of her, and never hesitated to 
do as he bade her. 

As Starr grew older, he gave less attention to 
his playfellows and more to his studies, and the 
experiments with which he delighted to follow 
them up. When he was nine years old his 
guardian sent him away to a boarding-school, 
but he remained there only one term. He was 
returned to Doctor Hendon with the statement 
from the principal that, while there was no fault 
to be found with the boy’s deportment, his 


42 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


strange habits and comments, coupled with the 
influence he exerted over the other boys, were 
such that it was not deemed conducive to the 
interests of the school to allow him to remain. 
This was not wholly unexpected to the Doctor, 
who had viewed the sending of Starr to a school 
as rather an experiment, and now upon the 
boy’s return undertook his education himself, 
spending one or two hours each day in the 
work. 

Doctor Hendon was much pleased with his 
pupil’s proficiency, and the rapid strides he 
made, noticing, however, that while he gave 
careful study to any subject which was brought 
before him, there were certain branches which 
absorbed his closest attention. He never acted 
as if it were irksome for him to devote an hour 
or two every day to the books his teacher gave 
to him ; but he did show, by the long hours 
and patient thought that he gave to such studies 
as chemistry, botany, philosophy, and anatomy, 
that the investigation of those subjects was to 
him rather recreation than work. He was never 
satisfied with merely learning what the various 
authors had to say, but wished to test every 
statement of theirs by personal experiment. 

The Doctor had long before seen that these 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


43 


traits of character were inherited by Starr ; and 
instead of checking his natural inclinations, rather 
encouraged them, and never refused the money 
needed for the purchase of books or apparatus 
for the pursuance of the boy’s plans; many of 
Starr’s experiments gave such remarkable re- 
sults that he was satisfied the money was well 
invested. 

When Starr was twelve years old his friend 
knew that he was well fitted to enter college, 
but as he had expressed a wish to continue his 
studies at home, and as the Doctor well remem- 
bered the boarding-school experience, the mat- 
ter was allowed to drop. Starr, however, 
needed now but little oversight in his work, and 
he was allowed to proceed without any sugges- 
tions from his guardian except when he himself 
requested them. 

This could safely be done, for the boy had 
never taken hold of his studies as though driven 
to them, but rather as if he had a purpose in 
view which he felt he could not accomplish 
without having mastered the steps already made 
by others in certain directions. 

The Doctor saw with pleasure that the student 
took an absorbing interest in medical or, more 
properly, surgical books, and he was at times 


44 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


ashamed of his own lack of knowledge on points 
that seemed familiar to Starr. He said to him- 
self, “ I must brush up my studies, and not al- 
low this young fellow to know more of my pro- 
fession than I do.” Here young Starr showed 
the same propensity to put every theory to the 
test, unwilling to rely on the observations of 
others, and for this purpose would sacrifice any 
of his old pets. These experiments, if success- 
ful, constantly suggested new ideas to the lad, 
whomever hesitated to put them into execution. 
He discovered that he could exchange the hair 
of a dog for cat hair, and from the time he ob- 
tained a new dog or cat until its death, which 
generally followed some of his experiments, it 
was never free from some surgical truth that 
was being tested upon it. 

There was no drug known to the materia 
medica that Starr could not tell you the effect 
of — at least upon a dog. His guardian would 
have hesitated to allow Starr to go to such a 
length, had he not been a physician himself with 
the memory of his own college days spent in a 
similar manner still fresh in his memory, though 
he had never carried his slaughtering operations 
so far as his pupil was doing. The latter, how- 
ever, never seemed to torture his animals for 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


45 


the sake of giving them pain, but in every act 
said plainly, You may suffer great agony from 
my treatment, but I do not do this with that pur- 
pose, and I wish for your sake that it hurt you 
less ; but I must know the result of this operation 
which can only be performed while you live.” 

It may have been that Starr was unconscious of 
the pain he was inflicting, or he may have pos- 
sessed such control over the poor brutes that 
they were insensible (and the Doctor was inclined 
to take this view when he perceived that they did 
not show signs of suffering) ; or, again, the boy 
may have been void of any compassion, and his 
whole life would incline a casual observer to 
this belief. 

Doctor Hendon never but once noticed any 
indication of roguishness or humor in the many 
original operations of his ward. He discovered, 
on returning home after an absence of some 
months, a dog running around with two rabbit’s 
ears and the tail of a horse in the place of his 
natural appendages. The whole appearance of 
the creature was so ridiculous that the Doctor 
could not restrain his laughter, but there was 
nothing in the countenance of Starr to indicate 
that he viewed the matter as at all ludicrous. 
On examination. Doctor Hendon found that 


46 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


both the ears and tail were growing, and the 
place where they were joined to the body was 
almost healed. It was clear that both a horse 
and a rabbit had been sacrificed, as this could 
only have been done by having living animals 
near at hand, and at once grafting their amputated 
members on the body of the dog, who had had 
his own ears and tail removed at the same time. 

Of all such experiments as the above, perhaps 
the most remarkable not only in the difficulties 
which must have been met and overcome, but 
in the scientific result of it, was the one which 
the Doctor found out on Starr’s birthday. It 
had occurred to him, while riding that morning, 
that this was the fourteenth anniversary of his 
ward’s birth. As usual he purchased a birthday 
gift for the boy, and on his arrival home went 
to Starr’s room to present it. Not finding 
him here or in several other rooms which he 
looked into, he at last went to a room above the 
kitchen which Starr had fitted up years before 
as a laboratory. The physician seldom went to 
this room unless asked by Starr to do so for 
the purpose of assisting him, and it so happened 
that he had not been in the vicinity of the 
chamber for the last six or eight months. Starr 
always kept it locked, at his request, to prevent 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


47 


the servants from intruding and meddling with 
any of the instruments and chemicals placed 
there. Hendon, however, had a key to it, and 
now finding the door locked, and yet hearing a 
noise within, he unfastened the door and en- 
tered. 

What was his surprise to find that Starr had 
taken two dogs and joined them in such a way 
that the blood of one passed into the veins of 
the other. A glass tube was attached to the 
profunda or deep femoral artery of dog number 
one ; a rubber tube connected this with another 
glass tube fixed to the pulmonary vein of dog 
number two. By a similar but smaller tube 
was the femoral vein of the second dog attached 
to the portal vein of the first. The two dogs 
were tied in such a manner that it was impossi- 
ble for them to disconnect themselves. The 
Doctor could see by the glass tubes that there 
was circulation of the blood between the two, 
but he could not fail to see that the effect upon 
dog number two was anything but conducive to 
his health. On the return of Starr, he asked 
him what he was trying to demonstrate by such 
an experiment, and the young man replied, “ I 
was trying to ascertain if one animal is capable 
of existing through the nourishment that another 


48 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


takes ; and I have succeeded, for one of these 
dogs has eaten nothing for over a month.” But 
after a moment’s reflection he added, “ But 
there is no saving : the other dog eats enough 
for both.” 


CHAPTER V. 


T N an attorney’s office, situated near the 
lower end of Broadway, sat two men en- 
gaged in conversation. A single glance would 
reveal the lawyer and proprietor in the one 
who sat near the desk, his pen still held in his 
fingers. He was a man of perhaps fifty years 
of age, who, for half that period had given his 
whole time and thought to his business, and his 
professional brethren had long since discovered 
that, though James Largur was shrewd, cau- 
tious, and successful, he was narrow and 
cramped as only a practitioner of that stamp 
can be. " 

His companion deserves a more careful con- 
sideration. He was a man whose age it would 
be difficult to determine from his looks. He 
might have been sixty or more, if judged by his 
gray hair and the lines upon his face. On the 
other hand, his deep-set, bright and earnest 


50 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


eyes, which seemed still strong and youthful, 
and his straight and powerfully built frame 
made it seem impossible that he could have 
passed forty. The brow was high and full and 
broad, the nose slightly pointed, the cheek- 
bones high and the mouth resolute. Every 
feature of the smoothly shaven face indicated 
strong will, which would not be easily set aside. 
A careful study of his countenance would con- 
vince one that he would not hesitate to do any- 
thing to accomplish his purpose ; there was, 
too, an austere and cynical look there which 
would not be noticed by the casual observer, 
who would be attracted by his brilliant eyes 
and stalwart figure. 

But little was known of this man; that he 
was wealthy ; that he kept an establishment in 
the upper part of the city ; that he was called 
Professor Barlow; that he had few if any 
acquaintances, and that he was seldom seen, 
was the sum total of the information that had 
been gleaned about him. As is usual in such 
cases, there were those who hinted of strange 
and dark deeds with which he had been con- 
nected — of secret undertakings that would not 
■bear the light of day. 

If the attorney knew more of this singular 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


51 


man than did the rest of the world, he never, by 
word or look, let any one be the wiser for it. 
It was not known whether his relations with 
the Professor were those of counsellor and 
client, or whether the latter’s calls at the office 
were mere friendly visits. 

To-day, Professor Barlow was more earnest 
than usual, and it could be seen by the frequent 
ejaculations of Esquire Largur that he was far 
from being pleased with the turn the conversa- 
•tion had taken. They spoke low, — this might 
have been from force of habit, or to prevent 
being overheard by the clerk in the room ad- 
joining, the door between being open. 

You must do this for me,” said the Profes- 
sor in a somewhat louder tone. 

“ I tell you it is impossible,” replied the at- 
torney, he is my client as well as yourself, and 
[ must keep faith with him.” 

“Could it not be accomplished without his 
knowledge of your connection with the affair?” 

“ Perhaps you can suggest a plan ?” 

“ I can and will,” replied Professor Barlow, 
“and it is simply this: You invite him here on 
some pretext, some matter of business on which 
you wish to consult him. On the appointed 
day I will happen in ; you are suddenly called 


52 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


away; you introduce us to each other, and ask 
the physician to remain here until your return. 
You can leave the rest with me.” 

“Why did you not suggest this before,” the 
lawyer exclaimed, “ and spare me the dis- 
courtesy of refusing your request ? You have 
ever seemed so indifferent to the people that 
you have met here that 1 have thought that you 
did not care to form new acquaintances, and 
so have refrained from any attempt to establish 
friendly relations between you and them.” 

“ You are right about my disinclination to in- 
crease my list of acquaintances,” said the Profes- 
sor, smiling a little, “ but I make this an excep- 
tional case.” 

“Very well, I am not surprised that you, 
who are so peculiar 3 ^ourself, should feel some 
interest in this strange youth, but why you 
should carry it to such an extent is, to say the 
least, remarkable. Before my telling you about 
his coming here and startling me by his request 
that I should define the rights a person had in 
the disposal of his body, and how far one could 
go in a purchase of that kind to take effect on the 
decease of the person wishing to sell, I did not 
have the pleasure of seeing you here once in six 
months ; now you do me the honor to call two 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


53 


or three times a week. I doubt if I should have 
mentioned the boy to you, h^^d you not met 
him going out from here and inquired his name.’’ 

“But you did not tell me his name.” 

“True, for I did not know it. He had been 
here once before with Dr. Hendon, who men- 
tioned that the youth was a ward of his. ‘I did, 
however, at your request, try to ascertain some- 
thing more about him, but, as you well know, 
found Dr. Hendon disinclined to talk upon the 
subject.” 

“ Yet he told you that he knew nothing of the 
young man’s parentage ?” 

“Yes, and that was about all I could get out 
of him.” 

“ I think you told me at the time that he said 
the boy was fourteen years old ?’’ 

“ So I did.” 

“ And that there was a mystery connected 
with his birth ?” continued the Professor. 

“True, but that I had told you this had 
slipped my mind.” 

“ If I remember rightly, you told me, since 
this matter came up, that he once consulted 
you upon his rights and duties in the premises, 
should any one claim the boy ?” 

“ I see, Professor, that this matter has made a 


54 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


deeper impression on your mind than it has on 
my own.” 

“ Perhaps it has,” said Professor Barlow, 
rising from his chair. What day shall I have 
the pleasure of meeting this physician here?” 

“ Oh, well, the day after to-morrow. I must 
first send my office-boy to learn if it will be con- 
venient for Dr. Hendon to come then, and at 
what hour, and if he can come, I will at once 
notify you.” 

‘‘No,” responded the Professor, “you need 
not trouble yourself to do that. I will send my 
man here to-morrow afternoon, and you can 
send me word by him.” 

Professor Barlow left the office, and Largur, 
opening the book that always lay before him, 
charged the gentleman ten dollars for consulta- 
tion. As he did so, he soliloquized — “ Now I 
wonder what all this means. His bill will be 
large this quarter. Oh, well, he can afford it, 
and expects me to charge heavily ; my time is 
valuable, but I don’t suppose he will make any 
objection to the bill ; he never does, and I make 
it a little larger every time. True, it has never 
been enormous, for he does not have as much 
legal business done as I could wish. Ten, 
twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy — 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


55 


Whew whistled the lawyer, I did not think 
he had called so many times ; I think I will not 
charge him for services in this case, only for 
consultation. 

“ Now I wonder,” he went on, looking ear- 
nestly at a fly who was trying to climb out of 
his inkstand, “ why he is making so much effort 
in this direction.” The pronoun ‘‘he” did not 
refer to the fly, but to Professor Barlow. “ It 
can’t be that he has made a discovery that will 
be of value.” 

(He still was thinking of the Professor, 
though staring at the fly, who had clearly made 
a discovery.) 

“ It is strange how very careful he is !” (Now 
he could not have referred to the fly, although 
he raised his pen and pointed it directly at the 
insect who had reached the top of the inkstand 
and was peering over it at another of his kind, 
apparently diligently trying to decipher the at- 
torney’s handwriting.) “ This is the third time I 
have offered to send my office-boy to his house, 
and each time he has refused to allow it. Strange, 
too, that I have had a client for more than fifteen 
years and never have discovered where he lives !” 

(The fly had now crawled down upon some 
paper lying near, and walking slowly and. 


56 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


without any apparent design, was writing in 
strange characters on the blank paper with his 
ink-stained feet. The attorney had not once 
during his soliloquy removed his eyes from 
Mr. Fly. He had watched him emerge from 
the ink, seen him pause on the edge of the 
stand and look down on his companion, watched 
him as he rolled down on the paper, and was 
still looking fixedly at him as he continued) — 

“ There must be something about this youth 
that needs looking into. Here Dr. Hendon 
comes into my office with a boy and, when I 
show an interest in the same, baffles my curi- 
osity and thereby strengthens it ; the boy him- 
self comes and questions me about purchasing 
people’s bodies before they are done with them; 
and then this singular client of mine, happening 
to meet the boy, looks at him as if he disputed 
his right to exist, then wants me to find out all 
about the lad for him ! I wonder what he 
will do next.” (If the lawyer referred now tb 
the insect before him, he had not long to wait 
for the answer to the question. The fly moved 
down a little on the paper, then commenced to 
travel back, and the lawyer, still looking at him 
and thinking of his client, went on) — 

I would like to hear what they say to each 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


57 


Other, but neither of them will ever inform me. 
They are both unlike other men, and yet do not 
resemble each other. Well, well, we will see 
what we will see.” 

Here he put the end of his penholder in his 
mouth, as was his habit when thinking, and be- 
gan to bite it. Having bitten off a small piece 
he spit it out of his mouth and it struck on the 
paper near the fly, who had got to the end of it 
and was now deeply thinking whether to step off 
or go back. When the splinter from the pen- 
holder struck him he decided to move off, and 
so did at once. 

Just then the attorney drew a long breath, 
and for the first time noticed the paper lying 
before him. He picked it up and looked at it. 
There was the trail of ink that the fly had left 
behind as he travelled down the sheet ; at the 
bottom where the insect had crawled around, in 
apparently aimless fashion, was a curious-look- 
ing figure, and Largur held the scrap nearer to 
examine it. Suddenly he threw the paper into 
the waste-basket with an exclamation of impa- 
tience with himself, and his cheek grew a trifle 
paler. In the queer design, his eye had de- 
tected the almost exact representation of a skull 
and cross-bones. 


CHAPTER VI. 


PROFESSOR BARLOW having received 
notice that Dr. Hendon would be at the 
office of James Largur, Esq., at a day and hour 
named, was present at the appoined time. The 
Doctor, all unconscious of the object for which 
he was summoned, was rather ahead of the hour 
stated. Scarcely had the attorney greeted his 
other visitor, when a boy entered and handed 
him a note. The lawyer, making enough show 
of reading the message not to arouse suspicion 
in the Doctor’s mind, laid it down and said, 
turning toward his two clients : 

Gentlemen, it is most unfortunate, but the 
fact is I have been requested to step over to the 
court-house to attend to a little matter that can- 
not be delayed. Will you excuse me for fifteen 
or twenty minutes ? It will not take me long- 
er.” 

“Certainly,” replied the Doctor; “take your 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 59 

time, and I will remain here until your re- 
turn.” 

“ And I,” said Prof. Barlow, “ am wholly at 
your disposal. I have nothing so important to 
see you about, that another day will not answer 
as well.” 

“ But if you are willing to wait, I would like 
to have you.^ The business I have with this 
gentleman will take but a very few minutes and, 
were not the request for my presence at the 
court-house peremptory, I would delay until I 
had attended to it. Perhaps the time would 
seem shorter, if you were acquainted with each 
other.” The attorney thereupon introduced the 
two men and hastened away. 

The Professor had not been idle all this time, 
but had been steadily at work at the object he 
had in view. Sitting there before Dr. Hendon, 
he had learned more of that gentleman’s likes 
and dislikes than many of the physician’s friends 
knew. He had discovered that on one sub- 
ject which had absorbed much time and 
study, the Doctor was never tired of talking. 
This subject he proposed to make the starting- 
point from which to approach another matter 
which had caused him, for the first and only time 
in his life, to seek to be presented to another 


6o 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


man. It was peculiarly fortunate for him that 
the topic upon which Dr. Hendon was most 
ready to converse, was one he himself under- 
stood both in theory and practice. Although 
not in the habit of mingling much with his 
fellow-men, the Professor knew enough of human 
nature to be sure that he could not obtain, by 
direct questions, the information he desired con- 
cerning the young man, when the guardian was so 
reluctant to talk with the attorney about his ward. 

He therefore determined to commence with 
the Doctor’s pet theories and from them lead 
carefully up to his point. If he were not suc- 
cessful in this, he would obtain Dr. Hendon’s 
consent to call upon him at his own house ; and 
if,” thought the Professor, “ I am obliged to in- 
vite him to my house, he shall tell me. I hope 
it will not come to that ; but it may, for I see I 
have not a weak man to deal with.” 

During this mental calculation of Professor Bar- 
low’s, the usual formalities attending a first meet- 
ing had been gone through with. The Professor 
himself opened the conversation by saying : “ I 
notice that you have the same name as the 
author of several papers on animal magnetism 
and hypnotism, that I have taken great pleasure 
in perusing, in one of the few magazines I per- 


A DOUBLE LIFE 


6r 


mit myself to read. Perhaps you and the author 
may be one and the same person ?” 

I have written some articles on that subject,” 
responded the physician. 

“Ah! then I am more fortunate in meeting 
you, Doctor, than I could have expected, for that 
is a topic in which I am more than ordinarily 
interested.” 

“ May I ask whether your opinions coincide 
with the views I have expressed ?” 

“ I agree fully with all that you have said and 
would go even further than you have gone. I 
believe this is an age when science is taking 
most prodigious strides, not only in the direc- 
tion of mesmerism but also in and towards the 
discovery of the laws that govern electricity and 
gravitation.” 

“ And do you think, Professor, that heat, light, 
electricity, magnetism, and gravitation, each 
have separate laws?” 

“ I do not. On the contrary, I think they are 
all the products of one single and simple prin- 
ciple. I am convinced of this so far as electric- 
ity and gravitation are concerned, and I believe 
it is generally accepted by those who have made 
the subject a study, that animal magnetism, 
neur hypnotism, mesmerism, or whatever else we 


62 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


may call the phenomenon of one mind’s con- 
trolling another, is but electricity or magnet- 
ism.” 

“ I think you are right,” responded the Doctor, 
“ and it is my opinion that electricity will be the 
agent to bring about this end.” 

“ Do you think. Doctor, that in mesmerizing a 
person you act upon his imagination and, by 
means of this alone, control him ?” 

“No, I do not; for I find that I can control 
certain persons without their knowledge or con- 
sent, while others who wish me to mesmerize 
them, and are willing to exercise their imagina- 
tions to any extent I might wish, I am yet unable 
to exert any influence over.” 

“ Have you ever examined one of those who 
are easily mesmerized, to compare the mind and 
body with one of the least susceptible ?” 

“ I have made investigations in that direction, 
and find that while I control the mind as well as 
the body, there must be certain conditions of the 
body to enable me to control the mind. For 
illustration, the first person over whom I exerted 
this power was a young lady, so charged with 
electricity as to affect the works of a common 
watch when carried about her person, and pre- 
vent it from keeping accurate time,” 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 63 

“ And how about the other extreme ?” interro- 
gated the Professor. 

“ As to that, I am in more doubt. I should 
however correct my statement that there were 
some who could not be operated upon. In 
using that expression I meant only to convey 
the idea that there were those whom I could not 
influence by the principles of mesmerism, even 
though they followed all the directions I gave 
them. Some of these I could affect by causing 
a slight strain to come upon their eyes, making 
them look fixedly at some object just above 
them for a certain length of time, thus compell- 
ing abstraction or concentration of attention 
until the patient became unconscious. This I 
account for by the hypothesis that the sup- 
pressed state of respiration prevents the proper 
purification of the blood and its circulation 
through the brain, and this decarbonized blood 
acts as a narcotic, resulting in a sleep to which 
we give the name of hypnotism. The patient 
would not long remain in this state, but would 
return to a normal condition or pass into a com- 
mon sleep. There are very few people who 
cannot hasten the coming of sleep by resting 
quietly in an easy position and taking long, 
steady breaths. 


64 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


“ Now, mesmerism seems exactly opposite in 
its nature ; for, while I find that those nervous 
people who breathe quickly and shortly are not 
easily hypnotized, they are very susceptible to 
mesmeric influence, and I believe that in mes- 
merism there is a special agent — a magnetic or 
electric fluid perhaps — by which medium the 
mental as well as the physical actions can be 
controlled. In hypnotism we have no power 
over the mind of our patient ; in mesmerism we 
have complete command. Through the agency 
by which we control the will and actions of a 
human subject, we can to a certain extent man- 
age inanimate things.” 

“ Do you think the young possess this power 
of mesmerizing ?” 

“ I do, for there is a young man living with 
me who has it in a remarkable degree.” 

“How old is the young man of whom you 
speak?” 

“ He is not yet fourteen.” 

“ I would like to see him.” 

The Doctor made no answer to this request of 
the Professor. Just at that moment there was 
a noise as of some one falling in the hallway, and 
whether that attracted his attention away from 
his companion’s remark or whether he did not 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


65 


care to answer it, and made that an excuse for 
not doing so, was not apparent. After waiting 
a short time, the Doctor made some remark 
about the noise, and th6n, as he did not volunteer 
anything further. Professor Barlow said : 

You have carried on your investigations from 
a professional stand-point, 1 should judge. Doc- 
tor, from those articles of yours which I .have 
read.” 

“ True, I have followed them further in that 
direction than in any other.” 

“ Have you made any cures by the laying on 
of hands, as some spiritual mediums claim to 
do?” 

“Yes. I was once called in great haste to a 
young lady whose family physician was away 
from home. On arriving at the house I found 
the lady suffering from a chronic affection of the 
stomach, which the attending physician had tried 
to allay by a stimulating treatment. I perceived 
there was acute inflammation of the mucous 
membrane of the stomach and bowels, attended 
with uncontrollable vomiting. The inflamma- 
tion had extended to the serous membrane, and 
the patient suffered most excruciating pain. 
When I saw her, she had vomited almost inces- 
santly for twelve or fourteen days, having been 


66 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


unable during that time to retain any food upon 
her stomach. There were other alarming symp- 
toms. As a physician I could see no hope for 
her, but I perceived that she was susceptible to 
magnetic influence, and I laid my hands upon 
her stomach and made passes over it. In a few 
minutes she ceased groaning, and, on being asked 
if she felt better, replied that she did. I contin- 
ued the passes for some fifteen or twenty min- 
utes longer, when she dropped into a natural 
sleep. Her pulse changed in that time from an 
almost imperceptible flutter to a distinct and full 
pulsation. This sudden change was very pleas- 
ing to me, for when I first saw her I considered 
that the severe pains indicated that mortifica- 
tion, if not already begun, would soon take 
place.” 

“ Do you think the state of the weather has 
anything to do with our bodily ailments?” 
asked the Professor, after a short pause. 

That was well settled in my mind long be- 
fore the medical fraternity was willing to con- 
cede it. They admitted that the lower animals 
possess an instinctive knowledge of a coming 
storm, and yet they laughed at those persons 
who claimed to be able to tell a change in the 
weather by certain aches and pains. I am con- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


67 


vinced that there pervades the whole created 
universe some incomprehensible fluid that is fine, 
elastic, invisible, and imponderable. This aura 
or fluid serves as a medium of communication 
and a bond of union to all its parts, and is 
called electricity, electro-magnetism, elective 
and cohesive attraction, the attraction of gravi- 
tation, and many other names, which all mean 
the same uncomprehended power.” 

Do you think that it is this same power 
which gives impulse and motion to all the 
planetary system ?” 

Most assuredly I do.” 

You have spoken of one person’s possessing 
the power of mesmerizing more than another. 
Do you consider it hereditary Y' 

“ I have given some thought to that, and, 
while I have no positive proof of it, I see no rea- 
son to doubt that a parent could transmit such a 
power as well as any other trait of character.” 

How about the parents of the young man 
living with you? Did they possess the same 
qualities which he displays ?” 

“ I cannot say as to that, for I did not know 
them.” 

“ Oh, I beg pardon. It did not occur to me 
but that he was a connection of yours.” 


68 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


Dr. Hendon’s “ No,” was not such as would 
encourage further inquiries on the part of the 
Professor. Twice that gentleman had tried 
in vain to lead the conversation in the desired 
direction, and he was now fully convinced 
of the uselessness of another attempt. There 
was but one course left for him to pursue. The 
Doctor was too much of a gentleman not to 
resent any prying into what he considered his 
private affairs. He was too strong for even 
the Professor to think of intimidating him, and 
no influence possible there could be exerted over 
him. Therefore Professor Barlow decided to 
invite him to his own house, knowing that, 
once there, all would be comparatively easy. 
The only thing to be done now was to so in- 
terest him in the conversation that he would 
be anxious to continue it. The Professor no 
longer acted the part of an interrogator, but 
advanced views of his own, which, while they 
were not entirely new to the physician, and 
Avere in the same general line as the topics 
they had been pursuing, yet possessed enough 
freshness to produce the desired effect. He 
asked : 

Have you given the subject of mesmerism 
any investigation with the purpose of ascer- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 69 

taining to what extent it can be used as a clair- 
voyant power?” 

“ I have been made aware that some subjects 
have the ability to see things that occur far 
away from them, but I have not followed the 
matter up, having confined myself rather to 
that phase of the subject which is more akin to 
my early studies.” 

“ I, on the other hand,” said the Professor, 
“ have given it much attention.” 

And have the results been satisfactory ?” 

“They were eminently so, for a time. I fol- 
lowed out the theories of the German authors, 
including Kliige, Wienholt, Walfert, Eschen- 
moyer, Passidant, Ennennoser. I reviewed the 
late editions of the French works, such as ‘ Les 
Annales du Magnetisme,’ ^ La Bibliotheque du 
Magnetisme,’ and Dr. Petetus’ History of 
Magnetism, as well as the Dutch works of 
Dr. Baeker, of Graningen, but I found that 
none of them had gone to the root of the 
matter. I began making experiments.* The 
first satisfactory result from them was in a 
boy, who in character was a mild, inoffensive 
child, but, after being mesmerized, imagined 
that he was a bird, and at my request would 
fly in‘ any direction I wished, and tell me what 


70 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


*he saw on his voyages. I tested him by send- 
ing him to places which I knew he had never- 
seen, and always found him correct in his de- 
scriptions of them. His whole strength lay in 
this, and I could not make him perform any 
other service. I continued, and found that in 
any person whom I was able to mesmerize 
there was more or less of this clairvoyant 
power. Some were confined to their own 
minds ; that is to say, there were none of them 
but could recall impressions made by any or 
all of the past events of their lives. I found 
that they could repeat many incidents of their 
past experience that had been forgotten, and 
which they would fail to recall when in a nat- 
ural state. Whenever I could learn if these 
statements were true by evidence outside, I 
have always found them to be correct. This 
may be taken as proof that nothing is actually 
forgotten ; or rather, that the mind never loses 
an impression made upon it.” 

I have perceived,” said Hendon, a state 
of mind, analogous to this, in people who have 
received a sudden blow.” 

‘'You refer to the statement made by suf- 
ferers from such accidents, that they for a 
time have a new body and are standing away 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


71 


from their old one, looking on, and their inef- 
fectual efforts to re-enter the frame which prop- 
erly belongs to them ?” 

I do, and I see that your attention has been 
called to such phenomena.” 

'‘Yes; and taking into consideration all of 
this, I am convinced that the many remarkably 
clear and circumstantial statements, made by 
the oracles of old, were nothing more nor less 
than results of clairvoyance. You will remem- 
ber that a trusted sibyl would officiate at dif- 
ferent shrines, as did she of Delphos, who was 
at the same time the sibyl of Eurythsia, Bab- 
ylon, Cuma, and many other places. If this 
be so, the wonders of clairvoyance are far from 
being of modern origin.” 

“ I think I must pay more attention to this 
branch of the subject, though I have by no 
means exhausted the field in which I have been 
working.” 

Just here the lawyer returned, and Dr. Hen- 
don added : 

“ It has given me much pleasure to have met 
you, and I am half sorry that Mr. Largur has 
so soon arrived, to interrupt the conversation.” 

“Oh, never mind me, gentlemen,” said the 
attorney ; “keep right on with your talk.” 


72 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


No, that would hardly be fair,” said Pro- 
fessor Barlow ; “ but if you will honor me with 
your company some evening this week, noth- 
ing would afford me greater pleasure than the 
continuance of this subject.” 

“ I would be pleased to call upon you, sir.” 

“ When can you come, Doctor ?” 

“ I am at your disposal for any evening that 
suits you best.” 

“ Let us call it the evening after to-morrow.” 

“ I will come.” 

“Do 3"ou know where the Professor lives?” 
interrupted Largur, who wanted to obtain the 
information himself. 

“ That you might not know where I reside 
had slipped my mind. I will write it down for 
)rou, as I have no card with me that has the 
address.” Taking a pencil from his pocket, 
he stepped across the room to the desk, and 
looked it over. Then, not seeming to find the 
piece of paper that he wished, he stooped to 
pick out of the waste-basket a sheet, and was 
about to tear off a piece, when Largur said : 

“ Oh, don’t take that. I have paper enough, 
not to oblige my clients to use that in the waste 
basket.” 

“This will do,” said his client, and wrote 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


73 


Upon the sheet his street and number, mutter- 
ing as he did so, “ He shall tell me then, if I 
have to make the hand index twenty degrees.” 
Then, turning and handing the paper to Hen- 
don, he said aloud, “ I shall expect you. Doctor.” 


CHAPTER VII. 


T the time stated, Dr. Hendon stood at 



the door of the house designated by his 
new acquaintance. There was nothing remark- 
able in the exterior of the building, it being an 
ordinary four-story dwelling constructed of 
brick with stone trimmings. He rang the bell, 
and the door was almost immediately opened 
by a man of whom, in the dim light, the Doctor 
was unable to get a satisfactory view. He ex- 
pected to see some' strange things, and was on 
the qui vive. 

The servant, without speaking a word or giv- 
ing the visitor a chance to make known his 
business, led the way through the hall into a 
small room in the rear directly opposite the 
entrance. This room, apparently intended as a 
waiting or ante-room, was plainly and ordi- 
narily furnished, and lighted by one window. 

One thing struck Dr. Hendon as odd, and 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


75 


that was a flight of black-walnut stairs built into 
the room and leading to the floor above. While 
wondering why these stairs should have been 
built into this small room, so near the flight in 
the hall, the servant returned and motioned the 
Doctor to follow him, still without speaking. 
Dr. Hendon saw that his guide was a man 
about forty years of age, with sallow com- 
plexion, and a dull, abstracted look about his 
eyes that to the professional mind indicated 
liver complaint. 

Dr. Hendon followed him as he led the way 
up the stairs just mentioned, follc^wed him 
through a long hall lighted by some artificial 
light, the source of which was not apparent. 
At the end of this hall or way, the servant 
moved aside the heavy curtains there and, bow- 
ing in an automatic way and pointing to the 
room within, broke the silence for the first time 
by saying, in a low voice and with a somewhat 
unnatural manner, “ Enter, and make yourself 
at home till my master comes.” 

The physician did as requested, and found 
himself in a large square room with a vaulted 
ceiling, in the centre of which was a stained and 
ground glass through which descended the only 
light the apartment received ; not a vestige of 


76 A DOUBLE LIFE. 

a window could be seen. The radiance which 
fell from this dome-like roof was mellow and 
white and, while it brought out with great dis- 
tinctness every object in the room, did not 
affect the eyes unpleasantly as strong artificial 
light is apt to do. There was a gentle, aromatic 
breeze in circulation, which reminded the vis- 
itor of spicy groves on still summer afternoons. 

In the middle of the room stood a large 
library-table covered with books, writing mate- 
rials, and several strange-looking instruments, 
of whose purpose the Doctor was ignorant. 
Three or four large arm-chairs, divans and sofas 
were placed conveniently about. The carpet 
was a rich Turkish rug, woven of those warm 
colors which delight the soul of the Oriental. 

At the right of the entrance was a book-case 
containing perhaps seven or eight hundred vol- 
umes. Opposite this were curtains similar to 
those at the entrance, and near them, on a ped- 
estal of dark stone, was a figure which the Doc- 
tor would have taken to be of marble, had it not 
seemed to him absurd that a marble statue 
should have what appeared to be human hair 
and should be draped with cloth. This anomaly 
in statuary aroused his curiosity so much that, 
without glancing at the other furnishings of the 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


77 


room, he went up to it for a closer inspection. 
He was somewhat startled when he found him- 
self standing before what seemed a living human 
being. There was the dark hair falling care- 
lessly over shoulders perfect in shape ; dark 
eyes that to the physician held a half-surprised, 
half-timid look, cast down as they were with 
partly closed lids, as if they said, “ I am not 
dressed for strangers a rather high forehead 
and full face ; lips a trifle too thick, and with 
just a faint tinge of color in them. Hendon 
was reassured a little when he saw that no 
blush rose to the cheeks at his gaze, but he felt 
that there was a strange contradiction in the 
work of art, if such it was before him. The 
artist had made a figure so near the ideal human 
form that its slight imperfections were an- 
noying. 

“But,” thought the Doctor, “this cannot be 
the work of man, and yet it is hard as stone. It 
is stone. It must be stone ; but why so good a 
sculptor as the one who did this work should 
not have corrected these trifling errors, is more 
than I can understand. What a wonderfully 
lovely woman the model must have been !” 

He continued his examination, and the more 
he looked the more perplexed he became ; for 


78 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


every moment’s study of the image established 
the fact that it was a statue — if the work of 
man it was the most marvellous result of stone- 
cutting that had ever been obtained. “ And it 
must be,” thought he, “ or it — ” 

But he did not complete the thought. The 
new idea was so startling, so thrilling, and so 
revolting that he forgot where he was and ex- 
claimed aloud, “ Can this strange man have 
done that? Can it be done ?” 

He moved away, and as he did so he heard a 
slight noise, — a clear, sweet note like that from 
a flute, and coming from near the curtains 
through which he had entered. He listened in- 
tently, but it was not repeated. In looking for 
the cause of this sound he observed what he at 
first took for a clock, as it had a round face 
with hands and figures, but it was unlike the 
usual timepiece, as it had four hands and twen- 
ty-four figures upon its dial instead of twelve. 
The longest hand now pointed at twenty-four, 
the shortest at nineteen. He consulted his 
watch and found that it was just seven o’clock. 
“ Can this be a time-piece ?” mentally asked the 
now thoroughly excited Doctor. It must be, 
and he has divided the day in twenty- four 
parts; but what is the use of the other two 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


79 


hands?” He could give no satisfactory answer 
to his own question, and with curiosity again 
baffled turned aside. Doing so, he noticed two 
fine specimens of the night-blooming cereus. 
They were not planted in flower-pots, at least 
in visible ones, but seemed to came up right 
through the carpet and floor. They appeared 
healthy, and the perfume which came from a 
half-opened bud on one of them proved that it 
was alive and growing. Other choice tropical 
plants were placed around the room, but in no 
instance could it be seen that their roots were 
embedded in earth. Dr. Hendon, seeing this, 
was led to think that the owner of the room 
had discovered the art of raising plants without 
earth, when he beheld, placed in a silver holder, 
flowers that he knew would fade and die as 
soon as removed from the mother stem. The 
only peculiarity that these plants showed was 
in the reddish-green color of the leaves ; but 
this was so slight that it would not have at- 
tracted the Doctor’s attention under ordinary 
circumstances, but now he was so alert that 
nothing escaped his excited senses. 

In the first general glance around the room 
when he entered, he had noticed a fine paint- 
ing nearly opposite him, representing a ruined 


So 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


church or abbey. He now thought he would 
examine it, so turned and walked in that direc- 
tion. Before him was a picture in a massive 
gold frame, but not the one he had expected to 
see. Instead, he was looking upon a represen- 
tation of a young mother playing with her first 
baby. The youthfulness of the lady, the win- 
ning grace of the child with its little hands 
uplifted as it lay in a cradle fashioned like a 
huge sea-shell, together with the view of the 
ocean in the background, made a scene rivalling 
in beauty and artistic effect the works of the 
best genre painters. Hendon was so much at- 
tracted by it that for some minutes he forgot 
the other picture which he was in quest of ; but 
at last remembering, looked round the room 
again. Nowhere, however, could it be found. 
There were oil-colors, water-colors, engravings, 
and crayon sketches, but among them nothing 
that resembled a ruined church. Had he been 
mistaken in his first glance ? He would have 
decided at any other time that he had been, 
but now he did not try to explain anything to 
himself. He was no longer in a state of mind 
either to be surprised or to be capable of rea- 
soning when the commonest surroundings of 
life took on such an unusual aspect. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 8 1 

Here he stood in a chamber lighted from an 
unseen source, filled with a delicious air that 
was perfumed by flowers growing without 
earth, adorned with statues more like nature 
than art, the hours told in flute-like music by a 
clock that he could not understand. It was a 
new world with new laws. 

Bewildered, he concluded to place a chair in 
front of the painting of the mother and child, 
and try to collect himself by looking at one 
thing which was natural and belonged to the 
world he was acquainted with. But where was 
the picture ? There was the massive frame, 
the queer little stand on one side of him, the 
same comfortable-looking divan on the other, 
but the lovely mother and the tiny infant had 
departed, and a solitary figure upon the canvas 
met his gaze. 

It was Napoleon on the rocks of St. Helena, 
looking seawards in the direction of France. 
The remarkable expression of the great chief- 
tain’s face, as he stood gazing over the stormy 
waters to the land to him forever lost, was the 
strongest characteristic of the picture. It was 
not the hero, the conqueror, the dictator to 
prostrate monarchs, not the commander whose 
word was law, not the ambitious usurper, who 


82 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


stood there deserted by all save the sea-birds 
circling beneath him. It was the “ Eclipsed 
Sun,” with folded arms and dejected yet wistful 
expression, looking and dreaming : looking back 
upon his greatness and dreaming of “ the might 
have been,” and seeming in hopeless misery to 
tell that another Waterloo had then and there 
been fought. 

The Doctor gazed in deep admiration, but 
when he remembered to wonder who the artist 
might be, he could not, upon the closest inspec- 
tion, find name or initial. Neither could he 
see by what means the pictures had been 
changed. Again he threw himself into the 
chair he had just vacated, and, shutting his 
eyes, tried to collect his thoughts. Hardly had 
he done so when he again heard that soft, 
musical note, this time repeated twice. Turn- 
ing and looking at the dial, he saw that the long 
hand had moved to the figure 6. His watch told 
him that it was just a quarter past seven. Though 
a little surprised that only fifteen minutes had 
elapsed since his entrance into this remarkable 
room, he did not have time to wonder at it 
much, for, hearing a slight sound in the direc- 
tion of the statue, he turned toward it expect- 
ing some new development. To some extent he 


A DOUBLE LIFE 


83 


was not deceived, for the curtains near the 
figure had been parted and the proprietor of 
the establishment stood before him. 

“ I must beg your pardon, Doctor,” said the 
Professor as he advanced into the room, the 
curtains dropping behind him as he did so, 
shutting from view an inner room ihat, in the 
momentary glimpse of it which the Doctor 
obtained, seemed so unlike the other that it was 
like the shifting of a scene at the theatre. 

“ The fact is,” continued the Professor, “ I 
did not expect you quite so early in the even- 
ing, and at the time you came I was deeply 
engaged in an experiment which I could not 
with safety leave unfinished. Are my excuses 
accepted T' 

“ Certainly,” replied his guest ; “ but it is I 
who should apologize for thus early intruding 
upon you. I thought it later than it is. I as- 
sure you I have not found the waiting tiresome.” 

“ Please be seated,” said the Professor, for 
the Doctor had risen at his entrance, “ and allow 
me to make amends for my rudeness in leaving 
you so long to entertain yourself.” 

Drawing a chair to the table and seating him- 
self, he continued : “ I have had so little inter- 
course with the outside world for the last ten 


84 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


or twelve years that I must, at the outset, ask 
you. Doctor, to overlook anything in myself or 
my surroundings that may impress you as lack- 
ing in hospitality. You will more readily ap- 
preciate my anxiety in this matter, when I in- 
form you that you are the only person, with 
but one exception, whose presence under this 
roof 1 have done myself the honor to request 
for that length of time. In my interview with 
you the other day, I discovered in you a con- 
genial spirit, so to speak, and finding you so 
much interested in a subject to which 1 have 
given considerable study, I thought I would 
give myself the pleasure of an evening with you 
here at my own home, knowing that I should 
be the gainer in so doing.” 

He did not say that he had been led to do 
this by a desire to learn more of the Doctor’s 
proUgL He had reasons, best known .to him- 
self, for keeping this motive in the background 
and his guest ignorant of his designs. The 
latter, unconscious of this, replied : 

“ You flatter me when you say that you would 
be the gainer by this acquaintance. I was fully 
convinced, when 1 left you after our last inter- 
view, that yours was the master mind, from 
which I could receive rich stores of information 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


85 


in regard to a matter to which I have given 
more attention than to any other. In thinking 
over our conversation, I have realized that the 
theories I advanced must have seemed rudi- 
mentary in the extreme to you.” 

“ Far from it ! far from it !” responded the 
Professor. “ Permit me to state that I have yet 
to find another man so well versed in the intri- 
cate subject of animal magnetism as yourself, 
and I have often wondered why a matter of such 
vital importance to mankind should be so little 
understood. Assuming as true, that one mind 
can control another (and this in a greater or 
less degree all men admit), why should we not 
trace this effect back to its cause, and see if it 
cannot be made beneficial? We know what in- 
fluence the mind exerts over the body ; it has 
been demonstrated beyond a doubt that death 
can be readily caused by operating upon the 
mind alone, though the body be in even a per- 
fect state of health ; as did the king, who, to 
carry out a joke upon his jester, gave him to 
understand * that he was to be beheaded, and 
then, instead of allowing the axe to descend 
upon his neck, ordered that a bucket of cold 
water be thrown over him. It killed the poor 
fellow ; not the water but his imagination. So 


86 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


the man who was blinded and led to believe 
that he was bleeding to death, really did expire 
with all the symptoms that would follow hem- 
orrhage. The world is full of such proofs that 
the mind controls the body. I do not mention 
this to you, Doctor, as anything original or as 
an argument in favor of a theory in which we 
both already believe. It goes to show how 
prone the tongue is to speak upon a subject 
which is occupying the mind. Here I find my- 
self plunging into a topic of conversation and 
giving you illustrations which must have come 
to your notice many times. My mind was led 
to this, in my pleasure at having with me one 
whose views I think coincide with my own. 
Pardon me and accept it as an instance in point.” 

I am sorry. Professor, you should check 
yourself in this way ; for, while the facts you 
have alluded to are not unknown to me, I think, 
if you had allowed yourself to continue, you 
would have given me some new ideas.” 

Here Dr. Hendon, who had been watching 
the hand of the Professor as he idly scribbled 
upon a piece of paper lying on the table before 
him, looked up into his face and found him 
gazing in his own direction, but with an absent- 
minded expression which gave the lie to his 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


S7 


statement that he had been prompted, in making 
his remarks, by his intense interest. “ What can 
he mean ?” thought the Doctor. “ Is he looking 
at me, or beyond me ?” and then he remembered 
the statue and, for once, curiosity got the better 
of his good-breeding, as he remarked : 

“ I see. Professor, that you have one of the 
most remarkable pieces of sculpture it has ever 
been my fortune to behold. May I ask if you 
are acquainted with the artist ?” 

The Professor started as if suddenly awakened 
from a dream, and a look of annoyance passed 
over his countenance. Whether this was caused 
by the question, or by a realization that he had 
for a moment forgotten his place as host, the 
Doctor could not tell ; but it passed quickly and 
he smiled as he replied, “ I never saw the artist.” 

He added immediately : “ Has it ever oc- 

curred to you that the art of embalming has 
been little studied ?” 

“ The importance of a better understanding 
of how this work may the most effectually be 
done, is very much felt at the present time ; 
after every battle there are more or less of the 
fallen embalmed and sent home from the front, 
but the work is so imperfectly done that it is 
very unsatisfactory,” responded the Doctor. 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


“ Have you ever given the subject any study ?” 

“ No,” replied Hendon, “ but I think I might 
be interested in it.” 

“ I have,” said the Professor, and the guest 
suddenly thought of the statue, and mentally 
ejaculated, “Can my surmises be true? I will 
probe farther,” and asked aloud : 

“ Would it be too much to ask you to favor 
me with some of your conclusions in regard to 
it ?” 

“ I will do so with pleasure,” he replied. “ I 
will not tire you with a lengthy lecture upon it, 
as it would take too much of our time, and I 
would like to have you favor me with some 
further account of the man or boy of whom you 
spoke at our last meeting, but I will give you a 
brief account of my experiments in the art of 
preserving the dead. 

“ Five or six years ago, I chanced to read a 
book in which was published an account of a 
remarkable catacomb, found in one of our West- 
ern States, by an exploring party sometime in 
the year 1734. Within this catacomb were 
found some pictures painted upon copper, one 
or two transparent and fire-proof urns with deli- 
cately shaded colors, and some other articles 
which I do not now remember. But what in- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


89 


terested me more than anything else was the 
discovery of two or three thousand mummies, 
so sound and solid that, apparently, if we may 
believe the story of the finders, they were capa- 
ble of eternal duration. . There was no indica- 
tion of putrefaction in them, nor did they have 
the shrunken appearance noticeable in the Egyp- 
tian mummies, but rather looked as if turned to 
stone, and must have been the exact representa- 
tions of the living subject. It occurred to me 
that if this statement was correct, the art of em- 
balming must have been a lost art to the Egyp- 
tians, or that there once lived in this country a 
race of men who had a process of preserving 
their dead, the knowledge of which died with 
them. This same view will suggest itself to 
your mind, perhaps, when I recall the fact that 
Herodotus tells us the Egyptians had three 
ways of embalming, although, if I remember 
rightly, Herodotus mentions a fourth. 

“ The people of this country could not have 
been acquainted with the methods mentioned by 
Herodotus. They did not possess the materials 
for the first process, which required palm wine, 
myrrh, cassia, and other perfumes. The second 
method could not have been employed with 
these results, as it tended to waste the flesh and 


90 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


preserved merely the skin and bones. The 
third is equally inadmissible, from the inability 
in this way to make the bodies resist the ravages 
of time. 1 concluded, on reading of this singu- 
lar discovery, to make some experiments in that 
line myself. I reasoned that, if I could invent 
something that would stay putrefaction and at 
the same time harden the flesh, I should accom- 
plish my purpose. Of course a variety of con- 
ditions, such as the exclusion of air, perfect dry- 
ness, a freezing temperature, were thought of, 
but all had their drawbacks. I knew I must 
have some anti-putrescent or antiseptic sub- 
stance, and set to work to find the right one. 
My efforts in this direction were not so success- 
ful as I wished. While still experimenting, I 
read in one of the Dublin Hospital Reports of 
the case of a man who died in that institution, 
who had changed to bone. The record stated 
that, for years before his death, no pulsation could 
be felt in any part of the body. Here, thought 
I, is the secret ; if I could cause ossification after 
death, my success was sure. I studied this 
carefully, but failed when I tried to put my 
theories into practice. I did, however, succeed 
so far as to complete the hardening after death, 
if I dosed my subjects (usually cats and dogs) 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


91 


for some time beforehand. I continued study- 
ing and experimenting, gaining a little informa- 
tion in this attempt, a little in that, until at last 
the result was quite satisfactory. I succeeded 
in preparing a chemical bath, of such a nature 
that, if I immersed any body in it for a sufficient 
length of time, that body became petrified, and, 
on its removal, was so hard that it could only 
be broken by great effort. I had now accom- 
plished my object, though the body, on being 
removed from the petrifying bath, was very 
dark. This difficulty I overcame by placing the 
body in another preparation, which gave it a 
glazed white appearance like marble. I had at 
last mastered the situation. I have articles 
treated in this manner that remain the same as 
when first taken from the bath some years ago, 
though subjected to all the tests I could think 
of to prove their indestructibility by time and 
decay.” 

Doctor Hendon looked at the statue opposite 
him, but said nothing. 

“ Now don’t you think. Doctor,” continued 
the Professor, “ that such a discovery, if made 
use of, would be of untold value to the world ! 
Just consider the advantage of this in an artistic 
direction ! What a comfort it would be, to those 


92 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


people who are anxious to have the portraits of 
their progenitors hung on their walls, to have 
the ancestors themselves placed on pedestals 
and ranged appropriately round the room !” 

This bit of grim sarcasm so shocked the sen- 
sitive nature of the physician that he did not 
reply, feeling that he did not care to pursue the 
subject. He looked at the Professor and again 
saw that far-off, absent expression in his eyes. 
Just then was heard the soft, sweet note of the 
clock. Professor Barlow aroused himself at the 
sound, and again a look of annoyance passed 
over his face. 

You are wondering what that noise is, are 
you not?” he asked his guest. 

“ I must confess that I have some curiosity to . 
know,” Doctor Hendon replied. 

That is my clock. I have divided the day, 
as you see, into twenty-four hours, each marked 
by a separate figure on the dial. Instead of the 
bell or gong telling the number of the hour, I 
make it strike one for the hour, two for the 
quarter, three for the half, and four for the 
three-quarter hour.” 

But you have two extra hands ; why is 
that?” 

“ One is a hand that indicates the atmospheric 


A ^DOUBLE LIFE. 


93 


condition of the room. The machinery is so 
adjusted that the slightest change in the air is 
at once shown, and can be immediately corrected 
if necessary. I see you would inquire by what 
means this is accomplished, and I will tell you 
without waiting for the question. It is done by 
electricity, my best servant, the same that lights 
this room, that heats it in the winter, and cools 
it in summer, that tells me through this little in- 
strument you see here on my table the condition 
of the weather outside, that takes care of my 
plants here, that changes the paintings in that 
frame which so bewildered you — that, in short, 
has given me more practical results from my 
study and experiment than anything else.” 

“ And the other hand of the clock that is point- 
ing to twenty ?” inquired Doctor Hendon. 

“ Pardon me, if I do not at this interview ex- 
plain its use,” said his host. 

“ Rather, pardon me,” hastily replied the Doc- 
tor, “ for allowing my inquisitiveness to get the 
better of my judgment for the second time.” 

“ It was but natural ; it was not you who 
opened this matter. But will you not partake 
of some refreshment?” 

The guest now for the firsDtime noticed that 
a servant stood beside them holding a tray on 


94 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


which were placed decanters of wine, fruits, 
glasses, and delicate china plates. The man 
silently placed the tray upon the table and re- 
tired. His master poured out a goblet of wine, 
and passed it to the guest, the whole thing being 
done so quickly, so noiselessly, and so suddenly 
that Hendon did not think to look at the face of 
the servant. 

After a few remarks on some commonplace 
matter, the Professor said — 

“ Doctor Hendon, did you tell me what name 
you had given to this boy of yours ?” 

“We call him Starr Cross,” replied the Doc- 
tor. 

“ Starr Cross !” exclaimed the Professor, start- 
ing from his chair ; “ did I understand you to 
say ‘ Starr Cross ? ’ ” 

“ Certainly you did ; have you ever heard 
the name before?” 

“ Perhaps it was the oddity of the name that 
startled me,” Professor Barlow replied, without 
directly answering the question. The Doctor 
saw, however, that something more than the 
mere peculiarity of a name had roused to such 
a pitch of excitement a man who ordinarily dis- 
played so much coolness ; but without taking 
more notice of his host’s agitation^ which now 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


95 

seemed in a measure controlled, he began tOTe- 
late the circumstances under which the boy 
came into his care, and the reasons why so 
strange a name had been given him. While 
telling this. Doctor Hendon saw plainly that the 
man opposite him was deeply moved, though he 
endeavored to appear as if he were only cour- 
teously interested in the story. 

When the story was finished. Professor Barlow 
asked, “ Did the mother of this child make such 
an impression on your mind that you would be 
able to give a description of her looks and 
dress ?” 

No woman ever stamped her image so in- 
delibly on my mind in so short a time as she 
did," Doctor Hendon answered ; then went on 
to describe her, adding in conclusion, “ The cir- 
cumstances connected with the birth of the 
child, the novelty of the situation, and the many 
peculiar statements of the sick woman, all led 
me to fix carefully in my memory not only her 
almost incoherent sayings but every lineament 
of her face." 

“Does that resemble the lady?" the Pro- 
fessor asked, motioning with his hand toward 
that side of the room where the Doctor had 
entered. 


96 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


Hendon turned to look in the direction indi- 
cated, and started from his chair with the ex- 
clamation, “Her very image! What is the 
meaning of this ?” 

Well might he ask the question, for there on 
the wall before him was the portrait of the 
woman who had died fourteen years before in 
the club-house. The staring yet dreaming eyes, 
the light brown hair, the delicate, clear-cut fea- 
tures, all were hers ; the painting withal so finely 
executed that it seemed the living, breathing 
subject which it represented. There could be 
no mistake : no two women ever existed so alike 
as this painted one and the young mother he so 
well remembered. He was so startled at the 
resemblance that, not until he had stared at the 
painted face for at least a minute, did he remem- 
ber that in his scrutiny of the apartment, before 
the arrival of his host, he had not seen this pic- 
ture. He knew that, had he seen it, it would 
have absorbed his attention to the exclusion of 
everything else ; but he had noticed with some 
surprise that that side of the room was very bare 
of ornament compared with the others. Now 
the strange eyes of Starr’s mother looked down 
from the wall directly at Professor Barlow as 
he sat at the table. Doctor Hendon glanced 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


97 


for a moment at the other side of the entrance, 
half expecting to see some change there, but 
nothing met his gaze but the blank wall. 

Well might he ask for the key to this mystery ! 
Well might he wonder how his singular acquaint- 
ance happened to possess this woman’s picture ! 
“ Did he know her ? Am I awake ?” were the 
questions that passed swiftly through his mind ; 
then his thoughts went back to that stormy 
night in the club-house and the half incoherent 
talk of the dying woman. Had he found a sec- 
ond confirmation of her statements? Twelve 
years before, the child himself had given him the 
first intimation that perhaps she was not so wild 
in her talk as he had imagined ; now, after all 
these years, was there another link to be forged 
in the chain of evidence to prove that all she 
said was true? Could it be true? There were 
few of her statements that needed corroboration 
now. He must be upon his guard ; if all was 
true (and in the light that was now dawning 
upon him he could scarcely doubt that), the man 
before him was a dangerous person — a man void 
of feeling who would not hesitate to sacrifice 
any life for his purposes. 

These thoughts, which passed rapidly through 
the Doctor’s mind, were interrupted by the 


98 A DOUBLE LIFE. 

Professor, who said in a now perfectly calm 
voice — 

“ You think I should explain this?” 

Doctor Hendon turned and looked at the 
speaker, and saw that his eyes had undergone a 
marked change. Their color was much darker, 
and there was a slight, twitching motion in the 
pupils, which he had noticed once before at their 
first meeting when he had spoken of Starr’s pe- 
culiarities. 

“ I am surprised, not to say startled,” he re- 
plied to the Professor’s question, “ not so much 
by the sudden appearance of this picture as by 
the fact that you possess so accurate a likeness 
of this woman, whom above all others of her 
sex I am interested in.” 

Please be seated,” said the Professor, “ and 
I will explain ; but first I place you upon your 
honor to hold what I shall relate as in the strict- 
est confidence.” 

The Doctor bowed, and his friend continued. 
“ First, then, let me tell you that I know very 
little of my parents ; my mother died at my 
birth, and my father followed her a few years 
after. When I was old enough to understand 
it, my guardian informed me that my father 
was a strange man, delighting in metaphysics 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


99 


and the study of mankind, and that he labored 
under a delusion that, inasmuch as every person 
is susceptible of being more or less influenced 
by his surroundings, it followed that mind acted 
upon mind, and that therefore one person could 
control another without visible agencies.” 

“ This you and I would scarcely call a delu- 
sion ; but the good man who had charge of my 
education considered it so, and told me that his 
purpose of informing me of my father’s mono- 
mania was to draw my mind away from such 
subjects, as he noticed I showed some interest 
in them. He never guessed how much time and 
attention I had given to the very matter which 
had absorbed my father’s thoughts. I continued 
my studies and experiments, but was more care- 
ful than before that he should not suspect them. 
I had inherited a large fortune ; and as money 
was never refused me when I asked for it, I 
had little knowledge either of its value, or of the 
expense of living. It was, perhaps, well that I 
made so few acquaintances and cared so little 
for the ordinary occupations and amusements of 
young men of my age and position. Years ago, 
while stopping in Paris, I had occasion one even- 
ing to go out to make a few purchases and, be- 
ing detained for some reason, thought I would 


100 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


return to my hotel by a short cut which I had 
discovered in one of my rambles. I somehow 
made a mistake and lost my way. I might have 
inquired the direction of the street I wanted, 
but chose rather to find it unaided. While 
going through a short dreary street, I stepped 
into a small shop to get a light, for I was out of 
matches and wanted to smoke. I was surprised, 
on entering, to find only a little girl, four or five 
years old, in attendance. She was a remarkable 
child, sensitive and nervous, and strikingly 
handsome. I had long before discovered the 
secret of animal magnetism, and now I saw 
before me a subject that I had no doubt would 
be far superior, for my experiments, to any 1 
had before found. I was interested, and at 
once determined to have this child, by fair 
means if possible ; if not, then — well, I would 
have her any way, for I had never set my heart 
on obtaining anything so strongly as I did on 
this object. 

“ My purpose was not so difficult of accom- 
plishment as I feared. The child was cared for 
by its grandmother, an old hag, who was easily 
worked upon, for she had no love for the child, 
and was so poor that the money I offered seemed 
a fortune. I took the girl with me ; and; walking 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


lOI 


to the next street and hailing a fiacre, told the 
driver to take us to the hotel. It then occurred 
to me that the care of so young a child might 
be somewhat of a burden. I had thought of 
nothing, before, but to get control of this little 
girl, who would be such an excellent subject on 
which to try certain experiments, the result of 
which I was anxious to see. A nurse was easily 
obtained, however; but 1 kept the child much in 
my own company ; and, from the time I took 
little Ad^le Le Croix from her grandmother’s 
store to the day she died, she had no thought or 
purpose that did not come through me. 

“ I remained in Paris only a short time, but 
brought Adele and her nurse to this country, 
and soon after settled down in the old home- 
stead. As the years went by, AdMe became 
completely absorbed into and a part of my own 
life. I could read her every thought and we 
could converse together without any audible 
language. I could will her to come to me from 
any distance and at any time. She took no 
notice of anything save as I wished it. She 
saw but few people, and was constantly at my 
side. The great theory that I demonstrated in 
her was, that one could live without any individ- 
uality, existing wholly as part of a stronger 


102 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


mind. Adele grew into the beautiful woman 
you have seen. While 1 had proved my theory 
to be correct, I was not satisfied. I had been 
wondering for some time what would be the 
effect of her strange life upon her offspring, if 
she should ever become a mother. I think. 
Doctor, it has been conceded by the medical 
fraternity, ever since the days of Hippocrates, 
that the surroundings of life and other causes 
affecting the mind of the parent show them- 
selves in the character of the child ; the more I 
saw my power over Ad^le the more anxious I 
was to see what other results might follow. 
When, therefore, she was eighteen years old I 
married her. I did not ask her consent, for that 
was unnecessary. I called her to me one even- 
ing, after thinking the matter over, bade her put 
on hat and cloak, took a hack, drove to the of- 
fice of the city clerk, obtained a certificate, and 
was married. You may wonder why 1 took the 
trouble to have our marriage solemnized : it 
was for the sake of my children, if I should ever 
have any ; I confess 1 was actuated by no other 
motive. For some time after our marriage 
things continued in the same old way, nothing 
that I did ever seeming to surprise Adele ; and 
I patiently waited until at last the time came 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


103 

when I knew that my child was coming to. 
prove or disprove my second theory. At that 
time I lived near Second Avenue, but had 
shortly before purchased this building and com- 
menced fitting it up to my liking. I often spent 
whole days and nights here, and, when I did so, 
would will Adele to me. As the anxiously 
wished for day drew near, I was more careful 
to have her with me all the time. I was trying 
an experiment here one day, and was somewhat 
careless with my chemicals, as I was in a hurry 
to return to Adele. There was an explosion, 
and I was struck senseless to the floor. The 
scar on my right temple was caused by my 
striking against the retort as I fell. I did not 
come to myself for some time ; I felt that I was 
severely hurt, but by a strong effort I regained 
my faculties long enough to call Adele. This 
was about eight o’clock in the evening. I felt 
that she was coming ; again, I knew she was in 
some trouble. I could not seem to get hold of 
her mind; I had experienced the same difficulty in 
trying to control her mind while she was asleep, 
but could always waken her. This troubled 
me much, and no doubt hastened the congestion 
of the brain which followed. I did not know 
anything for three weeks afterwards. When 


104 A DOUBLE LIFE. 

my senses returned to me, Ad^le nad vanished. 
I could not explain it. I had only one man 
here at the time, whom I had placed under my 
will, and who knew and cared nothing about my 
outside life. Just as soon as I was able, I sent 
word to my other house and received in return 
the tidings that AdMe had left there to come 
to me some three weeks before, and the woman 
who took care of the house supposed that she 
was with me. I was too ill to do much, but I 
roused all my energies, and ordered my servant 
to go to the police headquarters and bring back 
an officer with him. Before his return the ex- 
ercise I had taken brought on a relapse, and I 
was again unconscious for nearly a month. 
When I recovered sufficiently to be out, I took 
up the search myself, for I did not care to ask 
the help of others. I knew she must be dead. 
I looked in all the city papers published at the 
time, but found nothing there that helped me.” 

“ Did you look in the advertisement column?” 
interrupted the Doctor. 

!To, it did not occur to me at the time,” the 
Professor replied. “ I soon gave up the search 
and took up my residence here, having dismissed 
all but two of my servants, and afterwards sold 
the other house. Now you must admit. Doctor, 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


05 


that I was justified in being interested in your 
story — more so perhaps than you will ever un- 
derstand. You told me that the child had a 
birthmark of a cross ; may I ask if it was on the 
left breast?” 

“ It was,” replied the Doctor. 

“ Good ! and now one more question ; did 
this lady wear a ring on her first finger set with 
pearls and diamonds ?” 

“ She did.” 

The Professor was silent for a moment, and 
then said quietly, “ It was Ad^le, and Starr 
Cross is my son.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


TN the few months that had elapsed since Dr. 
^ Hendon’s visit to Professor Barlow, a great 
change had taken place in his life. Young 
Starr had gone to his father, gone to him will- 
ingl}^, for in the few visits he had made to the 
Professor before finally taking up his abode 
with him, he had discovered in his father a con- 
genial spirit ; and, more than this, the Doctor had 
seen a strong attachment growing up between 
them. This in itself was remarkable, for neither 
of them had ever before shown any love for 
their fellow-men, — at least, so far as the Doctor 
knew. In the three interviews with the father, 
which he had obtained (the Professor having 
returned his call), he had seen in him a man void 
of any feelings except those prompted by self- 
interest. While he had never had cause to 
complain of Starr’s demeanor toward himself, it 
being uniformly respectful and deferential, yet 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


107 


he had never detected anything that showed the 
presence of warmer feelings than those of a 
pupil for an honored teacher. 

In spite of Starr’s coldness the Doctor felt his 
loss very much. From the time he had first 
particularly noticed the strong mind of the two- 
year-old boy at the memorable visit to Mrs. 
Holt, until the departure of the young man from 
his home, Hendon had not onl}^ been very much 
interested but strongly attached to his ward. 
When most of those who knew the circum- 
stances of the child’s birth and adoption had 
either dropped from the list of Dr. Hendon’s 
associates, or had forgotten the event, and Starr 
had become a member of his own family, he re- 
solved to let the mystery surrounding Starr’s 
parentage remain a mystery if it w'ould. The 
boy himself showed little curiosity about his 
mother, and knew nothing of the facts of his birth 
until his advent into the life of Professor Barlow. 
As to the rest of the world — that had found 
the physician so reluctant to converse about his 
relations with his ward that it soon learned to 
consider the subject one on which the Doctor 
could not, or would not throw any light. 

When he first met Professor Barlow at Lar- 
gur’s office, it did not occur to him that his new 


I08 A DOUBLE LIFE. 

acquaintance had any other motive than curiosity 
in his inquiries about Starr. It was at Professor 
Barlow’s own house that he first became aware 
of the designs upon his ward. He had not in- 
tended to be so frank that day ; he could not 
see now why he had so freely told all he knew 
about the youth. 

Dr. Hendon one day set himself down in a 
comfortable arm-chair to quietly think over the 
whole matter. He remembered his first impres- 
sions of the Professor at the attorney’s office. 
He recalled to mind the request that he should 
visit this man at his own house ; how particular 
the Professor was that he should call upon a 
certain evening; and how carefully the street 
and number were written upon a piece of paper 
that the Professor fished out from the waste- 
basket. He had that paper now ; he would 
look at it and refresh his memory with regard 
to the location of the house. He took the paper 
from his memorandum book, where he had 
placed it after consulting it on the evening of 
the visit to Professor Barlow. 

He now looked over the paper, but there was 
no direction written upon it ; he turned it over, 
— nothing on the other side. It was the same 
paper, for there in the corner was the curious 


A DOUBLE LIFE. IO9 

figure made by some ignorant man, the Doctor 
supposed, who, in trying to make his mark in 
the form of a cross, had dropped some ink above 
it, so that the whole resembled the rough draw- 
ing of a star and a cross. This had attracted 
the Doctor’s notice at the time, because Starr, in 
the short notes he sometimes had occasion to 
write to his guardian, had adopted the plan of 
making a star and cross as his signature instead 
of writing his name. 

Dr. Hendon again turned over the paper: 
there was nothing visible, not even the impres- 
sions seen on paper after erasing the marks made 
by lead or ink. He held it to the light ; it still 
appeared the same. He took his memorandum- 
book in his hands and carefully examined every 
part of it, not with the expectation of finding 
another and the right paper, for he was satisfied 
that the one he first took out was that of which 
he was in search, but rather in that aimless way 
that one is apt to follow when surprised at not 
finding just what was anticipated, yet conscious 
of having discovered the very thing sought for. 

Again was a proof brought to his mind that 
the poor woman who died fourteen years before 
did not recall mere visions, and he trembled as 
he realized that but one more link must bq 


no 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


forged to complete the chain, and that every 
blow struck on that last link would sound a 
knell over him. 

He went to a secretary at the other end of 
the room and, sitting down before it, took from 
his watch-chain a key with which he unlocked 
a drawer in the upper part of the desk. He 
smiled as he took a paper from its secret hiding- 
place, and remembered how carelessly he threw 
it down there the morning after it was written, 
and how little he thought of the confession 
therein made until after his visit to Starr when 
the latter was two years old. As the memory 
of that day rose in his mind, it seemed to him 
that this was the first visit he had ever made to 
his young charge, 3^et he knew he must have 
called there often before. It was then that 
he first attached some importance to this 
paper. 

He now read it again, not because he was un- 
aware of its contents, for he had read it twice 
before, once after his discovery of Starr’s re- 
markable powers, when he saw in the child’s 
acts a curious confirmation of the statements 
made therein ; the second time after his return 
from Professor Barlow’s house, when he began 
to consider it somewhat in the light of a proph- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


Ill 


ecy ; but now, for the third time, he read it 
with a feeling almost of horror. 

He came at last to these words — 

“ Do it for my sake, for the sake of my little 
babe. My Starr will not show you the grati- 
tude he should for your act of kindness. Do 
not let him take the child from you, for if you 
should, it is lost; no one goes to my Starr’s 
house ; if any one should, it would only be 
once.” 

Then followed as if in answer to a question — 
“ No ; they might come out, but never could 
they find the place again.” The Doctor here 
remembered how true was this; he could not 
find the place a second time. 

The physician placed his head upon his hands 
learning his arm on the desk, and passed into a 
re very. 

How strange,” he thought, “ this whole 
affair has been ! How sure I was that this part 
of her story was not true, when I took the paper 
from his hand and saw the street and number so 
plainly written upon it! There it was in black 
and white, but now,” and he glanced at the scrap 
in his hand, “ it has vanished. He must have 
used some ink that would fade after a time ; in 
any other man I should call this mere eccentric- 


II2 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


ity, but in him I see a design. I now under- 
stand why he was so anxious that I should call 
that evening or the next. 1 do not remember 
the house ; I could not go there to-day if it were 
to save my life, and I have prided myself on my 
ability to recollect locations and surroundings. 
Has this man the power to make me forget these 
things? Has he shown me in this that 1 am but 
a novice compared with him in the science of 
which I thought myself a master? What a 
mind he has ! Could he have exercised over 
this woman, the mother of his child, the power 
he claims? I cannot doubt it,” glancing again 
at the paper on the desk. “ Poor woman, she 
never lived, she only existed, and was not even 
aware of her own separate existence. But it 
looks as though a power over her, superior even 
to his, controlled the last few hours of her life, 
or why did she come to us in such a manner, 
and why did she persist in telling us all she 
did ? Can one person control another as he did 
her? It cannot be disputed. It is a dangerous 
knowledge to hold, and it is better for humanity 
that such a power should not be understood. I 
am half inclined to say, after what I have seen, 
that I will drop the subject and never make any 
further study or investigation in this direction, 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


II3 

How strange would be the Alpha and Omega 
of my studies ! I was attracted to and became 
interested in the topic of mesmerism because 
my room-mate was a somnambulist, and was liv- 
ing two lives in one body ; if I close the book 
here, I end it, knowing that one life may be lived 
in two bodies, for Starr’s mother never lived 
except as a part of her husband. The curtain 
rises and I see but one person, but that one has 
two lives; the curtain falls upon the stranger 
spectacle of two living, moving bodies with but 
one mind between them.” 

“ I cannot allow Starr to remain with this 
man, demon as he appears. But what can I do? 
John Barlow is his father, and no doubt can sub- 
stantiate his claim. Again, I should meet with 
objections from Starr himself. He is now more 
than fourteen years old, and has a right to 
choose which of us shall be his guardian, but, 
more than all else, I have a dread of crossing 
arms with this man. Starr has asked me for his 
mother’s ring. Shall I give it to him ? I have 
a strange reluctance to do so, yet suppose I 
must. If I lose that, I feel my power is all gone, 
and I must — ” Here he stopped, raised his 
head, and picking up the paper lying before 
him looked it over carefully. “ I must try and 


14 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


regain the control of this youth, in view of this 
declaration, in view of the many statements 
herein contained that have already been proved 
true, together with the knowledge of what I 
have myself beheld, if not for Starr’s sake, if 
not for God’s sake, then, for the sake of every 
living mortal, I must get my boy away from the 
influence of that man. In so doing I know that 
I am risking my life. I am persuaded, how- 
ever, that if I accomplish my purpose, even at 
such a sacrifice, I have done more in that one 
act for humanity than in all the study and re- 
search that have occupied my days. 


CHAPTER IX. 


N the evening following the visit of Dr. 



Hendon, Professor Barlow was sitting 
at the table in the same room, his head resting 
on his two hands, his elbows upon the table, and 
his eyes fixed upon the portrait of the lady 
whom he had called his wife. Evidently his 
thoughts wer^ of a profound nature, whether 
agreeable or otherwise. 

I will try it !” he exclaimed at last, removing 
his gaze from the picture. “ I see no reason why 
it may not be done; and this Hendon will be in 
the way after the boy comes here. I must first, 
however, get possession of the statement that 
AdHe made, and the ring ; perhaps he will sur- 
render the ring with the boy ; if not — well, it is 
important that I recover that before he goes. 
He little dreams that his life or death depends 
upon what Adele said before she died. By the 
way, I must find out where the other physician 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


1 16 

is; Dr. Hendon said they two were the only 
ones present when she made the disclosures. I 
could not get complete control of his mind. 
Had I been able to do that, I should have set- 
tled upon my course of action before. Let me 
consider.” And Professor Barlow let his head 
drop back against the chair in which he was 
sitting. He raised it after a short interval, and 
looked earnestly toward the entrance of the 
room, as if he expected some one to appear 
there. If so, he was not disappointed, for soon 
there came into the apartment, with swift, noise- 
less, and mechanical movement, a straight, slim 
man, who could not have weighed over eighty 
pounds, if one could be persuaded that such a 
peculiar-looking personage was made of the 
same sort of clay as ordinary human beings. 
His face bore the appearance of premature old 
age, coupled with the look found in those people 
who never go into the light and air, and was, 
moreover, perfectly expressionless. There was 
a certain twitching of the muscles of the face 
that would give one the impression that the nian 
was suffering the most acute pain ; his hands 
and head, too, shook as with palsy. He ad- 
vanced to within a few feet of his master, and 
looked toward him, yet said nothing. The Pro- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


II7 


fessor looked at him, and instantly there was a 
change; the muscles quieted, the head and 
hands were calm, and the eyes took on that 
blank aspect which is so noticeable in sleep- 
walkers. 

Professor Barlow then said, “ Well, why don’t 
you speak, Zeno ?” 

The man replied slowly and as a talking-ma- 
chine might do, It — is — new — to — me — ” 

** Perhaps I can assist you ; where are you 
now ?” 

In — the — street — near — a — large — brick — 
house— with — a — gas-light — hanging — over — 
the — door.” 

That is not the right place ; you are on 
Broadway now ?” 

Yes,” replied the man. 

Then follow me.” The Professor remained 
silent for a few moments, and then added, This 
is the house, go in,” — then after a pause said, 
‘‘ Do you see any one ?” 

I — do — not.” 

Well, look all over the house, and when you 
find the man whom you saw here last night, let 
me know.” 

Again there was silence in the room ; the man 
who had been called Zeno remained stationary. 


Ii8 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


no motion whatever of his body being percepti- 
ble. His eyes were slightly elevated and fixed, 
his arms hung limp at his side, and so he stood 
throughout the whole interview, his only move- 
ments those necessary in speaking. When he 
spoke, he did so without emphasis, modulation, 
or inflection, and it would be impossible, from 
any perceptible accent in his words, to deter- 
mine his nationality. After a time he said 
I — have — found — him.” 

“ What is he doing ?” Professor Barlow’s 
voice sounded sharp and quick in contrast with 
Zeno’s deep, slow utterances. 

“ He — is — reading — ” 

“ What ?” 

‘‘A— book.” 

“ What is there in the room ?” 

“ There — is — a — centre-table — at — which — he 
— is— sitting — there — are — chairs — a — book-case 
— a — desk — four — ” 

‘‘ Stop there, Zeno. Is the desk open ?” 

- No — ” 

“ You will look into it, and tell me what you 
see.” 

I — see — many — things — there — is — a — large 
— ink-stand — and — ” 

“ No,” interrupted the Professor, “ I do not 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


II9 

care about that ; I want to know about the 
papers ; look into the drawers, if there are any.” 

There — are — many.” 

Are there any locked ?” 

“ Two.” 

“Very good. Now, look into those and tell 
me what you see.” 

“ They — are — both — filled — with — papers.’’ 

“ Well, read them to me.” 

“ It — will — take — me — many — hours — to — 
read — them — all.” 

“ That might be true,” replied the Professor, 
but as if he were speaking to himself, and Zeno 
made no response. “ Zeno,” continued his mas- 
ter, “ when I get through with you, I wish you 
to retire to your chamber, go back to this room 
where you are now, read all those papers care- 
fully that you now see, and if you find one 
which describes a woman dying in 1850, or 
which gives an account of a birth, or any state- 
ment that appears to have been made by a sick 
person, I want you to note just where the paper 
is placed, a description of the paper, and word 
for word just what it contains. You will write 
this all down, and bring it to me. If you do 
not find anything in this desk that tallies with 
what I have called for, you will search further ; 


120 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


if necessary, in every part of the house. After 
you have done my bidding you will report to 
me, for I wish you to undertake an entirely new 
kind of work. Do you understand all the in- 
structions I have given you ?” 

‘‘ Yes.” 

“ Is the man still reading?” 

“ No, — he — has — laid — his — book — on — the — 
table — and — is — looking — towards — the — light.” 

“ What is he thinking about?” 

Zeno remained silent for several minutes, and 
then said in a still more hesitating way, “ I — 
can’t— tell.” 

“ Humph ! I don’t see why this cannot be 
carried to the extent of getting at people’s 
thoughts. It must come to that. I will try 
him again.” 

'‘Zeno, can’t you in some way attract his 
attention to the desk? Now, try very hard.” 

Once more there was silence for a time, 
broken by Zeno’s saying : “ He — is — thinking — 
of — you — I — can’t — make — him — look — towards 
— the — desk.” 

“ Good !” exclaimed the professor, “ I may be 
able yet to get at Hendon’s thoughts. I never 
before had occasion to test Zeno’s powers in 
this direction. I think with two or three trials 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


121 


I shall be able to obtain through him what I 
wish. Zeno, I want — 

He — is — moving — towards — the — desk,” in- 
terrupted Zeno. 

“ Is he ? Tell me what he does.” 

“ He — takes — up — the — ink-stand — he — has — 
dropped — it — and — the — ink — is — spilled — he — 
says — dam — it — (“very proper under the cir- 
cumstances”) — he — is — trying — to — stop — the — 
ink — from — running — over — the — carpet — he — 
is—” 

“ Well, never mind about all that. I want to 
explain what I wish you to do after you have 
found the papers that you are to look for. I 
want you to go b^ck to this man, and stay with 
him all the time, excepting when he sleeps. You 
are to watch every movement he makes, take 
down every act of his, make a copy of every- 
thing he writes, and everything he reads that is 
not printed, make a list of the books and papers 
he reads, and the names of all the persons, so far 
as you are able, with whom he holds any con- 
versation. This you are to do every day, and 
bring the result to me until further orders. Do 
you comprehend ?” 

“ I— do.” 

“ What is the Doctor doing now ?” 


122 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


He — is — reading — a — letter.’' 

“ Read it to me.” 

Without another word Zeno read as follows : 

Headquarters of Surgery, 

Army of the Potomac, May 14, 1864. 

“ Dear Doctor.” 

“ Would you not be willing to see Largur, and 
ascertain from him why he has not answered 
my last two letters? It is important that I 
should hear from him soon, or I shall be obliged 
to return home and that, under present circum- 
stances, 1 do not wish to do, as the outlook is 
now that we are soon to have hard fighting. 

“ I ask this favor of you, as I know you are 
more likely to see Largur than any other of my 
friends, he acting as your counsel as well as mine. 

Yours very ” 

** Well, what name is signed to it?” 

“ I — can — see — only — George, — his — thumb 
covers — the — remainder — of — the — name.” 

‘•'Well, wait till he removes his thumb, then. 
I don’t suppose it is important, yet it may be 
well to know.” 

“ Keen.” 

“What? George Keen! Why, that is the man 
who was with Hendon the night that the boy, 
Starr, was born. I must look into this matter 
further;” and glancing at Zeno he said, “Is 


“ A DOUBLE LIFE. 1 23 

there anything else written on the _etter that 
you have not read ?” 

“ I — do — not — see — any — more — writing.” 

“That is too bad. I must get his address. 
Ah ! I have it. He speaks of Largur not an- 
swering his letters. I can get all the informa- 
tion I wish from him ; and then — and then — 
well, if it is necessary I will go down and see 
this other physician myself. He must not re- 
turn. It is expected that men should be killed 
in battle ; why should he be exempt ?” The 
Professor’s chin fell upon his breast and, appar- 
ently unconscious of Zeno’s presence, he re- 
mained buried in thought for some time. Rous- 
ing himself, he said to the man standing before 
him 

“You may now go to your room and attend 
to the work I have laid out for you.” 

Without replying, Zeno glided from the room 
as noislessly as he had entered. His master, 
left alone, drew a large easy-chair near to the 
table, and composed himself as if to sleep. After 
a short time, he reached his hand to the table 
and touched a small knob. Soon the stillness 
was, not broken, not disturbed, but only made 
alive and more soothing, by a soft, dreamy 
sound resembling somewhat the notes of an 


124 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


^olian harp, though more distinct and with a 
greater variety of chords. A second knob was 
touched, the light grew gradually dimmer, till 
the room was full of shadows; leaning back 
among the soft cushions, Professor Barlow slept. 


CHAPTER X. 


T T was but a few days after Dr. Hendon’s re- 
^ solve to save Starr from what he considered 
a dangerous position, that this young man might 
have been seen, had it been possible for any one 
to penetrate into his present mysterious home, 
reading a letter which he had just received from 
his old guardian. Although living in the same 
city, the latter was forced to address his young 
friend through the mail. He could not even 
place upon the envelope the name of the street ; 
had he known or rather remembered that, he 
would have made strenuous efforts to obtain a 
personal interview. He had written upon the 
outside of the letter, simply, the words, “ Starr 
Cross, City,” and dropped it into a letter-box 
with but slight hope that it would ever reach 
the party to whom it was addressed. 

The letter was handed to Starr by his father 
unopened, but with the remark — 


126 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


“ Here is a letter for you from the Doctor.” 

Starr noticed that, while there was a stamp on 
the envelope, it had not been cancelled, nor 
could he see any marks upon the missive show- 
ing that it had ever been in the post-office. He 
did not make any inquiries, or show any sur- 
prise, either at the receipt of the letter, its con- 
tents, or his father’s remark that it came from 
the Doctor. He asked no questions, as his father 
had anticipated. 

The note called Starr’s attention to the interest 
the writer had always taken in him, hinted very 
delicately at the amount of trouble and expense 
incurred on his account, upbraided him some- 
what for his lack of appreciation as shown in 
his neglect for the last month or two to visit his 
old friend, and ended with a request that he 
would come and see the Doctor or, if unable to 
do so, would send his address, that the latter 
might visit him. 

The young man, after reading this epistle for 
the second time, as though he did not get the 
full import of it on the first perusal, placed it on 
a table near him, and then seemed in deep 
thought. His meditations were soon inter- 
rupted by the return of his father, who said ab- 
ruptly 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


127 


“ Dr. Hendon thinks you should visit him.” 

'‘Yes, he has so stated ; but I think I see, un- 
derlying this request, some other motive for his 
writing to me.” 

" Does he want you to return to him because 
he thinks my influence will injure you ?” 

“ On reading the letter for the second time, I 
felt sure that he had some such idea.” 

" And do you wish to return to him, my 
son ?” 

"No, father, ten thousand times, no!” Starr 
replied. " 1 never enjoyed myself so much in 
my life as during the short time I have spent 
with you. While I was with Dr. Hendon, he 
gave me what help he could, and allowed me to 
prosecute what studies I wished ; that I fully ap- 
preciate. I found, however, at last, that I had 
reached a point where even he,, who takes so 
much interest, and is so well versed in my favor- 
ite subjects, could no longer be of any assistance 
to me. Since I came to your house — ” 

" And/<??/r house,” interrupted the Professor. 

" Yes,” continued Starr, " my house or, per- 
haps better, our house, — I have found at my dis- 
posal everything I ever wanted and much that 
I never thought of ; but above all, I have in you 
such a teacher as I have long desired.” 


128 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


“ And I find in you,” replied his father, a 
pupil after my own heart. We will continue 
our work together, we will share the glorious 
satisfaction of showing to poor deluded mankind 
what is the real principle of life.’’ 

If we succeed in our undertaking, the result 
itself will be a sufficient reward to me ; I care 
not what the outside world may think or 
say.” 

Here were two men who, beyond a doubt, 
were now working together, and would con- 
tinue to do so, without jealousy, without fear, 
without expectation of reward, other than the 
satisfaction arising from an object accomplished. 
They brought to the work, — the one, a lifetime, 
almost, of study and investigation ; the other, an 
inherited love for the task they had undertaken, 
and besides this they were possessed of such 
wealth that, in spite of the costliness of some of 
their experiments, the income from year to 
year had not been used. Could there be any 
reason why they should not succeed ? In time 
the purpose for which they labor will be 
achieved ; but again we shall meet the ques- 
tions : 

Is mankind benefited by the result ? If one 
can disclose a secret of nature, which disclosure 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 1 29 

will only perpetuate misery, is he justified in 
making known his discovery to the world ? 

Can man be created without woman ? 

Is there a certain part or principle of man’s 
nature that lives after the death of the body ? 
If so, did it live before ? 


CHAPTER XL 


HE reveille sounded on the morning of 



June 4th, 1864, in the swamps of Chicka- 
hominy. There had been an obstinate and 
bloody battle, and the Army of the Potomac 
looked out now upon a field crimson with the 
blood of their fallen comrades. 

With what a thrill of horror do we, even at 
this late day, recall the name of Cold Harbor! 
Who can recompense North and South for the 
agony caused by the forty or more days of 
Grant’s march from the Rapidan to Petersburg ? 
Who dares call the roll of widows and orphans 
made in those few days? Did the smile ever 
return to the face of the mother whose son fell 
on those fields of carnage ? She learned to 
smile again, it is true, but her smile was ever 
afterwards sad and suggestive of tears when 
she was alone. Was the father consoled for the 
loss of that son, his second self, the growing and 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


I3I 

expanding of whom, he expected to live his life 
over in watching? And the little maiden, — she 
has grown older since then. She may have 
married and now have a son as old as was her 
lover when he kissed her good-bye for the last 
time. She may have waited — waited sad and 
lonel}^ — waited when hope was dead — waited 
until her sorrow brought her to a premature 
grave. She may be living, but without the home 
and the children that should have been hers. 
But whatever her lot may have been, if she is 
living now, she will tell you that she would 
make any sacrifice rather than pass through an- 
other such terrible experience. 

But why did all this trouble come upon our 
people? Were those lives sacrificed that many 
more might be saved ? We have been taught to 
answer Yes, but we soon learn to say No. We 
have no right to boast of a high state of civili- 
zation until we can settle our grievances with- 
out bloodshed. Did it ever strike the reader 
how absurd it is that, when two men get into a 
quarrel about a matter so trivial that even boys 
would be ashamed to be found disputing over 
it, these potentates should at once call to arms 
innocent men, who know nothing about the 
real cause of the trouble (and care less), and p.. 


132 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


them against each other, let them slash and kill, 
until one side or the other gives out? That 
power which gains the victory makes the law, 
makes a rule of action, whose only recom- 
mendation is, that it is the will of the stronger 
party. 

What a strange thing it is that nations do not 
come together, and adopt a system of interna- 
tional law, with an established organization for 
putting that law in force ! This would not be 
necessary, were the best men always placed in 
power ; but, unhappily, such is not the case. 
The American civil war would never have oc- 
curred, had our high officers been in heart, as 
they were in voice, the servants of the people 
from whom they received their positions. Had 
our high dignitaries known that the little spark 
of dissatisfaction which they were constantly 
fanning into flame, would result in the loss of 
their own lives, would they then have gone back 
to their constituents, and said that war was in- 
evitable ? Would the leaders of the two factions 
have continued their accusations and recrimina- 
tions against each other, had they realized that 
a settlement could only be made by the sacrifice 
of their families and their homes? When men 
take high positions their responsibilities are 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 1 33 

equally exalted, and their conduct must be and 
will be carefully scrutinized. 

Had the political representatives of North and 
South tried one half as hard to conciliate and to 
understand each other, as they did to antagonize 
and overreach, the drum would never have 
sounded the reveille that summer morning in 
the swamps of Chickahominy, and the Army of 
the Potomac would not have had an existence. 
Will posterity believe that the misunderstanding 
which culminated in the war of i86i, was more 
ably disposed of by the baptism in fire and blood 
of thousands of men, who from force of circum- 
stances could not comprehend the true inward- 
ness of the causes that precipitated that war? 
War cannot be considered as an intellectual 
science ; it too soon resolves itself into a ques- 
tion of mere brute strength ; and yet we are apt 
to say of the side that wins, God breathed 
upon its victorious banners and proved it in the 
right.” Who is there in this age of reason that 
will say that God takes sides in the quarrels of 
His children ? Does the pensioning of widows 
and mothers of the soldiers who failed to re- 
spond to the call of the drum that morning in 
June, compensate them for the loss of hus- 
bands and sons? The men who last looked 


34 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


upon the light of day in those terrible swamps, 
were sacrificed upon an altar built of gigantic 
mistakes. Those soldiers of the Army of the 
Potomac who never returned or only came 
home to die, gave up their lives for no other 
reason than that certain other men could not 
agree. 

There are times when the taking of life is jus- 
tifiable ; yea, when it is a duty. But who will 
say that, because the son or husband deserves 
death, we have a right to kill the mother or 
wife? Yet this is war. 

If we have got either to see those whom we 
love murdered, or to kill the would-be murderer, 
our duty is plain. If those we have sworn to 
protect must die, if another does not, there is 
justification for taking the life of that other. If 
those who are bound to us by family ties make 
themselves amenable to the law, are we not ex- 
pected to shield them as far as is in our power? 
The law itself recognizes this right. Shall we 
not protect our honor and the honor of those 
who are part of us? Is not our honor as dear 
to us as our life ? If that honor or a life must be 
yielded up, is there any doubt what a brave, 
noble-minded man or woman will do? There 
are men who die and the world is benefited by 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 1 35 

their death. There are men living to day who 
owe their lives to the deaths of others. 

If two men are on a raft in mid-ocean, and the 
raft is incapable of holding them both, it is not 
murder for one to push the other into the water 
to drown. If, by the death of one person, an- 
other can be saved, how much better than that 
both should be lost ! 

Professor Barlow reasoned in this manner 
when he said that Dr. Keen must die. Whether 
he contemplated taking the life of the man who, 
he believed, possessed a fatal knowledge will 
never be known, for as we view his life from 
different stand-points, so we shall arrive at 
widely varying conclusions in regard to it. 
Certain it is that Dr. Keen was found dead on 
the morning of June 4th, 1864; but there was 
nothing to indicate the cause of his demise, not 
a mark or a bruise was found upon his person. 
He was seen attending to his duties as surgeon 
when he fell ; no one was near him at the time, 
save the patient he was examining. He fell, not 
in the rush and roar of battle, but in the quiet 
that follows the fight, when the stillness is so in- 
tense that any sound that breaks it is a relief ; 
yet no noise was heard. 

Dr. Keen was dead; and were it not for the 


136 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


remark of the Professor, no connection would be 
suggested between his decease and the life of 
the strange, silent, but wonder-working chemist. 

By this death, but one person was left — Dr. 
Hendon — who knew anything about the state- 
ment made by the dying woman in the club- 
house. 


CHAPTER XII. 


GAIN we are within the house of Professor 



^ Barlow. We find him sitting in a reclining 
chair in a small circular room not over fifteen 
feet in diameter. Both in shape and height it 
might forcibly remind one of a tent, the more 
so, as, at a height of ten or twelve feet from the 
floor, the sides begin to gather in until they 
meet in a point some twenty-five feet above the 
centre of the floor. Here, however, the resem- 
blance to a tent ceases. The walls, or rather the 
wall, is fancifully draped with silk brocade of a 
dark amber color ; while there is no sign of a 
window the apartment is filled with the same 
mellow light which the Doctor observed on the 
evening of his call. That soft, restful glow fills 
the place, yet its source is indiscernible, and no- 
where is a shadow cast on floor or wall or 
pointed ceiling. As we look again at the latter 
we see that it is a very light blue in color, and 


38 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


just discernible all over the surface are number- 
less tiny points or pin-hole-like stars, but we are 
left in doubt as to whether these are ornaments, 
or form the source of that mysterious light. 
The only apparent means of egress is an open- 
ing in the wall in the rear of the Professor’s 
chair, and this is almost concealed by heavy 
maroon curtains. On the floor is a velvet car- 
pet, combining the two colors of maroon and 
amber. There are several ottomans placed 
around the room, against one of which leans a 
large Turkish pipe, near where the Professor 
sits and smokes in the only chair the place con- 
tains. On his right is a tank that at the first 
glance we might take to be a table, from its 
shape and location in the centre of the room. 
On further inspection, however, we find it to be 
a reservoir, filled with a violet-colored liquid, 
whose surface is constantly agitated by the rapid 
accumulation of bubbles, which break with a 
hissing noise like that made by escaping steam. 
As we gaze, the Professor takes up a hook which 
has been lying against the tank, and with it re- 
moves from the bath a snake-like ribbon about 
four feet long and perhaps two inches wide. 
This ribbon or strap appears to be composed in 
part or whole of different kinds of metals, ar- 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


139 


ranged without regard to pattern, and in pieces 
which vary much in size and shape, yet are 
of uniform thickness. The colors of these pieces 
differ as much as their shape, scarcely two being 
of the same hue, yet all have a peculiar metallic 
lustre. The whole seems light, as it almost floats 
upon the air from the Professor’s hand, as he 
takes from his pocket four little balls of a dark- 
bluish color, and places them at equal distances 
upon the strap. He now moves to another part 
of the room, fastens the strap around a large 
piece of iron weighing perhaps fifty pounds, and 
lifts the whole from the carpet. It is surprising 
to see how easily he handles that heavy mass ; 
he holds it in one hand as carelessly as an ordi- 
nary man might carry a one-pound weight. He 
cannot be practising with it, for he almost im- 
mediately puts the iron back in its place on the 
floor, removes the strap, and tries the same pro- 
cess with another iron, perhaps half as heavy as 
the first. Taking hold of the ring inserted in 
the top, he lifts the weight from the floor as if 
it were a feather ; he tosses it up and it is af- 
fected by the slight currents of air as a soap- 
bubble might be, he lets it drop and it falls 
slowly and strikes the floor noiselessly. The 
faintest possible trace of a smile of triumph 


140 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


plays around the magician’s cynical mouth, as 
he removes the encircling ribbon from the iron, 
takes the little balls from their places, and casts 
the strap again into the liquid which begins 
anew its erratic bubbling. He crosses to that 
part of the room opposite the entrance, and 
moving aside the drapery discloses to view eight 
tubes, placed side by side, from which arises a 
net-work of wires, some ten or twelve centering 
in a tube. Each tube is numbered and fitted 
with a valve and shut-off. He carefully exam- 
ines a small indicator, looking somewhat like a 
thermometer, that is attached to the cylinder 
numbered one, turns slightly a thumb-screw, 
steps back, letting the draperies fall back into 
their accustomed folds, and then resumes his 
chair and his smoking. Deep thought is in- 
scribed on every feature. After some moments 
he takes pencil and paper from his pocket and 
commences ciphering; time passes, still he 
works on ; he fills one side of the sheet with 
figures and hieroglyphics, then he turns it and 
works upon the other side, now and then paus- 
ing for a time as if some point in his calculation 
puzzled him, or failed to realize his expectations. 
For nearly an hour he thus occupies himself, 
then he replaces the paper in his pocket, and 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


14 


arising, takes the strap again from the bath. 
He places the four blue balls upon it as before, 
then lays it upon a chair and leaves the room ; 
soon he returns, bringing in his hands two more 
balls, in shape and color not unlike the first, save 
that they are somewhat larger, and show a 
slightly reddish tint, intermixed with the dark 
blue. He puts these on the straps, one at each 
end, and again places the ribbon of metal around 
the fifty-pound piece of iron ; this time he raises 
it from the floor as easily as he before took up 
the smaller weight, he tosses it in the air, and it 
falls slowly and lightly to the carpet. He re- 
tires from the room for a moment and, return- 
ing, sets upon the floor, a pair of jeweller’s 
scales ; upon these he places the iron with the 
strap still around it ; adjusting the balance, it is 
seen to indicate a weight of less than one grain. 
He removes the strap, and the iron falls to the 
floor with a crash, breaking the delicate scales 
in its descent. “ I have succeeded,” the Profes- 
sor says, aloud. “ It has been a long, tedious 
strife, but in electricity I hold the key which 
will unlock every secret that nature has so long 
kept hidden. It will be a very short time, now 
that I have overcome this difficulty, before I 
shall achieve the one great purpose of my life. 


142 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


I knew in the beginning that I should succeed 
in to-day’s trial ; but it should have been done 
weeks ago. I do not see how I made that mis- 
take in my reckoning.” Here he takes the paper 
from his pocket and looks it over carefully. 
“Ah! I see,” he continues. “Well, lam now 
ready to go on with my work. I have over- 
come gravitation ! Now for the next !” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


OTARR and his father were one day sitting 
^ in the room where the latter had received 
Dr. Hendon some months before, and were dis- 
cussing a project for a new experiment. 

“ I see no reason why it cannot be done,” 
Starr was saying ; “I know that in some of my 
trials at the Doctor’s I was able to transfuse 
blood from one animal to another without any 
trouble, and shortly before I left there I suc- 
ceeded in passing blood from the veins of one 
dog to those of another by way of the veins of 
a third. I found in my studies of surgery that 
in cases of profuse loss of blood, or those of 
danger of starvation from cancerous diseases or 
other sources of exhaustion, the transmission of 
blood has been successfully performed upon the 
human body, and for a long time it has been re- 
garded as a recognized and legitimate operation 
in obstetric surgery. If I remember aright, it 


144 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


was as early as 1667 that Denys injected the 
blood of calves into the veins of a young man 
who had been much weakened, and had become 
stupid and slightly dropsical in consequence of 
repeated bleedings, and restored him to perfect 
health.” 

“ I am glad that you have made so careful 
a study of this matter,” replied his father. 
“While I knew that the • transfusion of blood 
could be successfully performed, I never gave 
the subject much thought, and not until you 
suggested that we try the experiment of crea- 
ting new life in a dead body, did I feel the need 
to know more about the question of removing 
dead blood and injecting new in its place.” 

“ But this is not just what is to be done ; I do 
not know of any process whereby new blood 
can take the place of that which has died in the 
veins. What we want is to inject the new at 
the same time that we remove the old ; or, if this 
cannot be done, to infuse some preparation that 
will keep the blood in the same condition for a 
sufficient length of time to enable us to accom- 
plish the change. Now that this can be done, I 
have not the slightest doubt, and if you think, 
father, that, with the assistance of Esquire Lar- 
gur, you can persuade this man to have the ex- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


145 


periment tried on him, and can arrange so that 
I can operate upon him in his cell, I am san- 
guine as to the result.” 

“ Oh, I can fix it with Largur,” replied the 
Professor, and of course the criminal will give 
his consent, for there is a chance opened for him 
to live by accepting our terms, whereas, should 
he refuse, he will inevitably be hung, for he 
confessed his crime, has been sentenced to death, 
and his execution takes place in three days. I 
did not think, when I told you of this, a day or 
two ago, that your fertile brain would concoct 
such a scheme, but I am glad of it, and will give 
you all the assistance in my power, for in this I 
am to be your scholar. I am as enthusiastic to 
commence as you are, for I can see that, if the 
undertaking is successful, it will demonstrate 
the truth of many a theory that I have often 
desired to see proven. But what put the idea 
into your head ?” 

“ I will tell you. It is now some six or eight 
years since I commenced experimenting in this 
direction. That was why I asked you to let me 
have John’s body after he died, and I should 
have succeeded with him had he not wasted 
away so much in his sickness, or had I com- 
menced my work upon him before he died. 


46 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


What first called my attention to the subject 
was reading an account of an attempt to restore 
suspended animation in a man who had been 
drowned, by forcing air into the lungs by means 
of a pipe passed through the mouth into the 
glottis, one end of the pipe being attached to 
the nozzle of a pair of bellows. Although this 
man had been in the water for more than three 
hours, they were successful in bringing him to 
life. This attracted my notice, and caused me 
to consider whether or not a person could be 
restored to life, if death had not been the result 
of some wasteful disease or of some accident 
which would make it impossible to live. While 
I still had this question in mind, I read an item 
in one of the newspapers telling of an effort 
made to restore a man who had been hung in 
London, England. The physicians who were 
working on the body with that object in view 
were assisted by an electrician. By attaching 
a battery to the muscles they succeeded in caus- 
ing the man to move his body and limbs ; and by 
applying the electric current to the heart, forced 
it to beat and to set the blood in circulation. 
They then produced respiration by artificial 
means ; so long as they continued to force the 
air into the lungs, and then expel it by pressure 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


147 


on the chest, they caused the man to take on 
the semblance of life. His pulse could be felt, 
a slight hectic flush appeared on his cheek, his 
eyes opened and shut, and for a time it looked 
as if they would succeed in restoring him to 
conscious life. They did not succeed, however, 
and my reason for their failure lies in the fact 
that the man had' been dead for two days when 
they commenced their work upon him, and the 
corpuscles in the blood had died or become 
coagulated or clotted, and consequently were 
not in a condition favorable to restoration. 
Now, the blood remains fluid in the veins for 
some time after death, and could it, by any arti- 
ficial means, be made to continue in its normal 
condition until new blood could be supplied to 
take its place, I see no reason why life could not 
be brought back. If I can obtain an interview 
with this man, the night before he is hung, and 
he consents to place himself in my hands, we are 
all right.” 

V Suppose his neck is broken in hanging ?” 
suggested the older man. 

True, I had not thought of that. What can 
we do to prevent such a mishap?” 

'‘How would it do to let the man take his 
own life?” 


148 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


“ By poison T interrogated Starr. 

“ Yes, by poison mixed with a drug that will 
check decomposition.” 

“ Can this be done ?” 

It can, andji will see that it is doMe at once,” 
the father said as he arose from his chair and 
moved toward the door. “You may in the 
mean time attend to the details ; I will agree, on 
my part, to have the body of this man here 
within four days.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 



HE usual stillness of Professor Barlow’s 


house is interrupted ; for the first time 
since he took up his abode in the house, stran- 
gers are admitted there ; the servants move 
about in that perplexed and undecided manner 
so common to their class when the ordinary 
routine of domestic life is broken in upon. 
Zeno alone displays more natural life than he 
has been known to do for years, but as a whole 
the establishment has the disorderly appearance 
that follows the loss or absence of the control- 
ling power. For Professor Barlow is sick — 
dying, the physicians say. Young Starr has for 
hours, since the accident to his father, sat beside 
the bed, dazed by the misfortune that has fallen 
upon him. There was no one living who could 
feel the loss of this man as would his son, for 
none had so well understood him. 

Starr had been conscious of an attraction 


150 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


towards this peculiar man on their first meeting 
at the attorney’s office, and never was he more 
pleased than when he learned that the Profess- 
or’s house was henceforth to be his own home. 
His pleasure arose chiefly from the fact that he 
had found not a parent only, but a mind akin to 
his own far more than is common in the souls 
of father and son. The bond of union between 
them could not be explained upon the hypothe- 
sis of kindred only. The young man had spent 
but a few short months in the society of his 
father, but in that time he had acquired knowl- 
edge which he would have needed a lifetime to 
gain unassisted. Starr had slept but little since 
his advent into his father’s house, one of his 
most marked peculiarities being that he seemed 
quite independent of sleep. While with Doctor 
Hendon the latter noticed this and, somewhat 
surprised at it, tried to discover the reason, but 
found himself unable to explain this more satis- 
factorily than many another eccentricity of his 
ward. For the last five or six months the young 
had not spent, on an average, more than two hours 
of the twenty-four in sleep. Often, after work- 
ing hard all day at some experiment, his father 
would advise him to leave it and take the rest 
which it seemed natural -that he should require. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


151 

Starr would persist, however, in saying that he 
was not tired, and his father would leave him 
without further comment. That father knew 
better than the son the latter’s powers, and 
many a time, when he felt timid and afraid to 
trust himself, had convinced Starr that he was 
able to accomplish whatever he might under- 
take. 

During Starr’s residence with his father he 
had shared nearly all of the Professor’s work, 
and had gradually become acquainted with the 
greater part of the results obtained before his 
arrival. During the progress of a new experi- 
ment, he, if not a sharer in it, was an interested 
spectator, and. on the completion of an old one 
was informed of all that it had brought to light. 
When the Professor had discovered and over- 
come the laws of gravitation, he had called his 
son to him and explained his object in giving so 
much time to that purpose. 

But now Starr sat beside his unconscious 
father, and gazed in the familiar face, revolving 
over and over in his mind the question, “ Will 
he ever be himself again ?” As the time passed 
with no apparent change, Starr’s powers began 
to reassert themselves, and to make him indig- 
nant that he had for so long a time lost his self- 


52 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


possession ; from that moment till the end, no 
one could have discovered in look or bearing a 
sign of feeling. Coming to himself, he at once 
gave orders to the servants as to what should 
be done, and, first of all, summoned Zeno to the 
sick-room. Without waiting to consider, he des- 
patched the man at once for Doctor Hendon, 
but Zeno did not go ; and had Starr been aware 
of the relations between his old guardian and 
the servant, he would not have thought of send- 
ing him on such an errand. This was one of 
the few secrets that Professor Barlow had kept 
to himself. 

Nothing definite was known regarding the 
accident that had so suddenly laid the strong 
man helpless and senseless upon the floor. A 
short time after he went to his laboratory that 
morning, a noise was heard in that direction, and 
Starr, alarmed, though unable to tell why, had 
hastened to the spot to find his father appar- 
ently lifeless. Starr, half mechanically and not 
thinking then, of Doctor Hendon, had sent a 
servant for the nearest physician, who soon ar- 
rived and sent for a colleague when he per- 
ceived how serious was the case. Starr knew 
that the Professor had gone to the laboratory 
to prepare a certain gas which was to be used 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


153 


in the resuscitation of the dead man on whom 
they were at work. That body even now lay 
in the next room, but he did not think it best 
that the physicians should be told anything 
concerning this matter, and left them in the 
dark as to the precise nature of his father’s 
work at the time of the accident. 

Ceaseless efforts had been made to restore 
the Professor to consciousness, and after a time 
he opened his eyes and let them wander round 
the room for a moment, then closed them again. 
After renewed efforts on the part of the doctors, 
their patient again opened his eyes, this time 
more naturally, and in an instant, with his in- 
domitable will, took the matter into his own 
hands. He ordered that all save Zeno should 
leave the room. The physicians demurred at 
this, but soon submitted, for they saw that he 
would brook no opposition to his will. As Starr 
was retiring, his father called him back and said, 
“ My son, I wish to learn through Zeno how 
serious my injuries are. If I find that they are 
beyond repair, I have some instructions to give 
him which I do not want even you to hear. 
See that I am not disturbed until I send Zeno 
to you.” 

Starr signified his acquiescence, and left the 


154 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


room. As soon as they were alone, the Profes- 
sor said — 

“Zeno, examine me.” 

After a moment Zeno spoke. 

“ I — do — not — see — anything — wrong.” 

“ Are my stomach and heart in good condi- 
tion ?” 

“ They — are.” 

“My head?” 

“ I — see — nothing — strange.” 

“ My throat and lungs ?” 

“Your — throat — looks — natural — your — 
lungs — are — the — same — as — I — have — always 
— seen — them — no — ” after a pause, “ there 
— is — hemorrhage — near — the — left — lobe — of — 
your — right — lung — there — is — a — rupture — of 
the — membrane — and — the — blood — is — flowing 
— quite — freely— into — the — lung.” 

“ It is as I feared !” exclaimed the sick man. 
“ I should not have lighted that match. I ought 
to have known that the room was full of explo- 
sive gas. I knew I was breathing it ; the leak 
in the retort must have been more extensive 
than I considered it.” 

The Professor lay silent, thinking; and the 
key to his thought was given in his next ques- 
tion, “ Shall I live ?” 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 155 

“No — the — ru p tu re — is — enlarging — the — 
blood — flows — more — rapidly.” 

“ How long can I live ?” 

“ Not — over — an — hour.” 

“ So soon,” and the stern face clouded. “ I 
was in hopes it was not so bad. Well, I must 
submit ; no, I do not submit, but I cannot help 
it. I must hasten and give you your last direc- 
tions, Zeno. The man you have been watching 
— this Doctor Hendon — I desire that you not 
only continue your watchfulness, but also when 
occasion permits, follow him in person, ever 
having in mind that you are to obtain possession 
of the paper written at Addle’s death-bed and 
destroy it. You must do this at any sacrifice; 
if necessary, he may die. After you have ac- 
complished this you can awake. You must not, 
under any pressure, divulge to any person what 
your orders are in the matter. Allow no one to 
control you but my son, and do not let him 
know or change the mission I have left you. 
You are not to speak or listen to any one save 
Starr, unless it should be necessary to the fulfil- 
ment of my wishes. Do you clearly understand 
what I ask of you ?” 

“ I— do.” 

“ Repeat it,” and Zeno recited, in his me- 


156 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


chanical way, all that his master had said, 
neither omitting nor changing a word. 

'Tis well. Zeno, I bid you good-bye — but 
then, why should I bid Zeno good-bye ? Why 
should I say good-bye to myself ? I die in part 
— I am not dead till Zeno awakes ; but stop — 
will this power continue after my death ? I 
think it will ; nay, I know it must. Zeno, you 
will not wake up till you have finished the task 
I have given you ?’' 

The servant did not reply at once, and over 
the face of the dying man crept an expression 
of distrust. 

“ Zeno, why do you not answer ?” 

“ I — think — not — ” came sJ.owly from the lips 
of the mesmerized man. 

‘‘Think?” exclaimed the Professor. “Don’t 
you know ? ” 

“ I — shall — not — wake — up — till — your — 
wishes — are — complied — with.” 

“ Now go and tell my son to come in.” 

Zeno retired, and Professor Barlow closed his 
eyes, murmuring, “ ’Tis hard to give up now 
when the consummation of my early wishes 
seemed so near at hand ! I could have warded 
off disease ; and with the knowledge I possess 
of the secrets of life, I believe I could have 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


157 


lived as long, as I might wish. I have not 
grown old for the last forty years. If we record 
life by the waste of the tissues, I am not to-day 
over forty-five, although I have been on the 
earth more than eighty-five years. I forgot to 
guard against accidents ; but could I ? No, I 
do not see — Why doesn’t Starr come? He 
should have been here before now.” As his 
eyes opened he saw his son standing by the 
bedside. 

“Your eyes were closed, father,” said Starr, 
“ and you seemed wandering a little, so I hesi- 
tated whether to arouse you or to call the 
physicians.” 

“ There is no occasion to call any one,” re- 
turned the father. It is impossible for me to 
live but a very short time, and this interview 
is for your sake.” 

“ I would rather you thought of yourself, 
father,” said Starr, his voice a little unsteady. 

“ I clearly comprehend my present condi- 
tion, and my talking with you will not hasten 
or retard the end. There are a few things that 
I wish to impart to you at this time. I have 
explained the use and the purpose of every- 
thing connected with my life-work, save one 
of which I now wish to inform you. I have 


58 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


written- down for you the reasons which im- 
pelled me to every discovery and invention 
excepting this one, which I should have given 
you in time. It must be sooner than I in- 
tended; that is all. It is the desire of every 
man to live ; the hereafter is too vague to 
justify the hastening of death. The object of 
my first studies was the discovery of the 
source of life, but not until I had spent over 
twenty years in the search was I rewarded 
with any success. I learned many wonderful 
things in that time, but they were on side 
issues or were the result of studies under- 
taken merely for recreation. My work was to 
find out how to live an indefinite period. I 
have not time to tell you of the many theories 
that I pushed to an end. I w^ aware; in the 
beginning, that I should need to invent or dis- 
cover some form of nutriment that would give 
the proper sustenance to the blood, without 
unduly working the stomach and liver. I saw, 
too, that I must overcome all change in the 
blood from a healthy state. These two things 
I accomplished ; but as years went by, I was 
aware that they were not sufficient. While I 
could perceive that there was no alteration 
from the condition in which I first placed my 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


159 


organs, yet there was a gradual decrease of 
vital force. I must do something to keep that 
up, and I did this by the use of electricity. 
From the time that I perfected and placed 
around my body the belt which I have now 
worn for some forty years, there has been no 
apparent change in my age. I cannot dis- 
cover that I feel one day older than when I 
first put on the belt. Not a gray hair more, 
not an additional wrinkle has appeared. After 
my death I wish you to take the belt from my 
body and examine it closely, that you may 
manufacture one for yourself. You will also 
remove from my arm the band that encircles 
it ; this you will see is worn to note any change 
in the blood. Its adaptation to that purpose 
will readily commend it to you. I wish you 
to continue the endeavor to restore to life 
the body on which we have been at work. 
Should your efforts be crowned with the suc- 
cess which I hope will follow, and should you 
at any time feel that you would be justified in 
operating upon my body, you have my full 
and free permission to do so, although I do not 
know how you can succeed, unless you can 
repair the rupture which is causing my death. 
I deem it my duty now, in order that my body 


l6o A DOUBLE LIFE 

may be at your disposal at any time you de- 
sire, to call your attention to the embalming 
fluids, and I think you had better cause my 
blood to be removed and our elixir fluid to be 
injected to take its place, as soon as I breathe 
my last. Your nerve is sufficient for this. 
There is no need to call your attention to any 
further details. You are aware that there is 
sufficient money for any purpose for which 
you may require it. My will is with Esquire 
Largur. At your earliest convenience, request 
Dr. Hendon to give you your mother’s ring, 
which he has thoughtlessly neglected to re- 
turn. On removing the third pearl from the 
bottom of the cross, you will find a spring ; 
press this, and the top covered with the dia- 
monds and pearls can be taken off ; and .within 
the recess thus made you will see — ” Here 
the voice, that had for some time been growing 
weaker, failed altogether. After an effort 
which showed the pain he was suffering, the 
Professor began again; but, because of his 
agony or for some other reason, he did not 
finish his instructions with regard to the ring, 
and Starr, thinking he would do so later on, 
did not interrupt. 

“ I find I am failing very fast,” said the 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


l6l 


dying man. “ I know of something that would 
relieve my pain, but I have not time to send 
for it now, and it could not prolong my life a 
minute. I wish, my son, to say one word about 
my religious views. I have never settled in my 
own mind the question of a second life. 1 have 
faith in a supreme power, but do not believe 
that power has any interest in us individually, 
or any control over us save by fixed laws. I 
am satisfied that, if there are sins, they are of 
two kinds ; I have designated them as sins of 
the body and sins of the mind or, as a church 
member would call them, bodily and spiritual 
sins. I have watched that I commit no sins of 
the mind, and sins of the body die with me 
and, if there is a life beyond, will not rise 
against me. I believe in evolution and that 
it is the strongest proof that there is constant 
progression. If there is an existence after we 
leave this earth, I see no incompatibility in the 
belief that we can make that existence known 
to those left behind. Yet there may be a life 
which is indifferent to the things of earth. If 
I have knowledge of an after life, and can im- 
part it to you, I will do so. If you should at 
some future time see fit to resurrect me, and 
should succeed, the question of the next world 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


162 

will then be settled, provided that world has 
any relation to this. My reason for here ex- 
plaining my views on this subject, is that you 
may never misunderstand the motives that 
have governed my life and to enable you to 
see that I have never been inconsistent. If any 
of my deeds seem strange to you, test them by 
my tenets, as I have now given them to you, 
and you will have no cause to think ill of your 
father, or to doubt that his acts were prompt- 
ed by a sincere desire to do right from his 
standpoint. I wish, Starr, that you should 
ever remember that the world will not judge 
your conduct by your standard of right and 
wrong, but by its own. Should you bring to 
light any unknown power that will place the 
life of your fellow men in your hands, do not 
share the secret with any one, not even your 
mesmeric subject, for there are few men who 
hold such power with safety to the human 
family, and men, realizing this, would not give 
you credit for greater virtue or self-control 
than they themselves possess. I discoverd that 
secret, and to preserve your life and mine, it 
may be necessary that an innocent man suffer. 
Guard such power from the possession of all 
the world ; mankind would not be benefited 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 1 63 

by a disclosure of it, and you could do no 
greater service to your race than to let the 
secret die with you.’’ 

For a second time the father was obliged to 
pause, but with a will that seemed almost super- 
natural he again roused himself and continued. 

“You never have mentioned anything about 
taking the surname by which I am known, and 
I have not thought it best to call your attention 
to it, for these reasons ; while your coming into 
possession of your present name seems to be a 
mere accident or a singular coincidence, I do 
not accept either as the direct cause. When 
your mother was but a child, I taught her to 
call me ‘ Starr I do not think she ever knew 
that I had any other name. It was but natural 
that the name of ‘ Starr’ should suggest itself to 
those who named you, after hearing her so con- 
stantly repeating it. Why they should have 
selected the surname of Cross would not be so 
apparent, had it not been for the birth-mark of 
a cross upon your breast, and perhaps the ring 
which your mother wore; but what makes it 
appear like fate, is that your mother’s family 
name was Le Croix. You will find upon my 
breast a fac-simile of your birth-mark, seemingly 
pricked in with India ink; the circumstances 


164 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


under which that was done, while they will in- 
fluence your whole life, I have not the time to 
relate. Your mother knew nothing of this, 
however, and that was the reason why I took 
that mark to prove this one of my many^ the- 
ories : that not only an offspring’s mental condi- 
tion can be permanently fixed, but that, through 
the mind of the mother, the physical structure 
of the child can be controlled. It was my de- 
sire that a male child should be born to me, who 
should have upon his breast a mark like the one 
I carry, and it was done. This is a subject 
worthy of your thought. I do not advise you 
to make any change in your name ; I should 
not have been better satisfied, had I named you 
myself, for I consider that I was the instigator. 
Only so bear it that the ' Star’ shall ever shine 
above the ‘ Cross.’ My son, I care not what 
the world may say of me : I only desire that you 
should never think ill of any of my acts. I am 
sinking, going ; the pain has left me. I think — I 
see — ” but here he stopped. His lips moved as 
if he would have finished the sentence but could 
not. The face took on a quiet, almost a happy 
aspect, and Professor John Barlow was no more. 

In the death of this peculiar being there 
passed away a man who, had his lot been cast 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


165 


among less financially favorable circumstances, 
could, by his indomitable energy and inventive 
faculty, have done ’much to hasten the time 
when it will be in the power of every human 
being to become, physically, morally, politically, 
and socially, the equal of any other. That time 
is sure to come ; and had not the wealth of Pro- 
fessor Barlow made him selfish and indifferent 
to his fellow mortals, he would have hastened 
that day by untold years. 

Perhaps his investigations had caused him to 
make discoveries that it is not best mankind 
should understand, with the rivalries and jeal- 
ousies which exist in the present state of society; 
but those rivalries and jealousies must pass 
away, as will war, as will the conflict of the 
churches, as will the intricate problems grow- 
ing directly or indirectly out of the question of 
how the two sexes shall bear their relations 
toward each other, as shall false modesty, as 
shall the manner in which political issues are 
joined and disposed of, as shall many other un- 
fortunate results of our present way of living. 
And in that day which is to come, we shall not 
condemn any one from prima facie stand-points, 
but rather from the motive that prompts him ; 
not from appearances, but from the acts them- 


i66 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


selves. The maxim that is so universally acted 
upon to-day, that “ The sin is not in the deed, 
but in the being found out,” will have been 
swept away, by the more enlightened rule that 
will judge the result by the motive. In that 
time man’s sentence upon man will be tempered 
by mercy, charity for all, malice toward none. 

People will then, as now, indent the history of 
their lives upon their faces, but instead of a few 
being able to read the record, every one can do 
so, making thus an incentive to each to guard 
against any thought or purpose that would not 
.be upright in the eyes of his fellow men. 

We are prone to sin by a feeling that we can 
do so without such sinning discovering itself. 
If every wicked act were sure to be exposed, how 
few are the vices that would live. There is no 
need of doing anything that will not bear the 
light of day, and when we can read one an- 
other’s faces as easily as we do our books, when 
the countenance is sure to be the exact index 
of the thoughts, we can safely say that the mil- 
lennium has begun. 

When that day arrives, the ability of one 
man to destroy all others need no longer be 
kept a secret; for it will be safe, nay, beneficial 
for all to know it, not alone for the reason that 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


167 


it would form a closer link of confidence, out for 
the advantage that humanity would derive from 
such a discovery. The good and bad in all 
things come together ; we must learn to discrim- 
inate, to lay the bad aside or destroy it, but use 
the good to our benefit. Professor Barlow looked 
at the subject in this light, and gauged his 
action in accordance with this knowledge. He 
knew that such power in the hands of any man 
would endanger the life of the possessor. Soci- 
ety would not allow a man to exist, if it was 
convinced that its life was at his option. It 
would not only desire his death ; but further, 
that his secret should die with him. 


CHAPTER XV. 

PROFESSOR BARLOW was dead. What- 
^ ever is the truth in regard to the mysterious 
future, he knew and realized it. 

Starr from the moment of his father’s death 
became changed. The last awakening of his 
mother, as she was passing away, seemed to 
leave an impression upon him, which, now that 
his father’s strong will was taken from him, 
gained some ascendancy. This, however, Starr 
himself never appreciated. 

He found, on calling upon Esquire Largur, 
that his father had willed all his property to that 
attorney in trust for himself, but upon such a 
trust that it was virtually left directly to the 
young man. One of the provisions of the will 
was that Starr should receive at any time any 
amount that he might desire, without explaining 
the use to which he proposed to devote the 
money. This liberty of drawing money was 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


169 


not restricted, so that, whenever Starr should 
deem it best, he could relieve the trustee from 
his trust by withdrawing the whole of the trust 
property. The advantage of thus arranging 
the matter was explained to Starr by the at- 
torney. 

‘'You see, my young friend,” he said, “it 
was the wish of your lamented father that you 
should not be restricted in any way. If he had 
not made a will it would have necessitated the 
administering of your father’s estate by a pub- 
lic administrator. The orphan court would 
have appointed a guardian for you and, until 
you reached your majority, you would have 
been hampered by restraints from which you 
are now freed by my being appointed executor 
of the will and also trustee under the trust 
therein established ; and further, your late father 
thought that perhaps you would not like the 
care of so large a property.” 

“ What do you consider the value of his es- 
tate?” interrupted Starr. 

“ As nearly as I can figure it out,” said the 
attorney, “it is between one and two million 
dollars.” 

“ In what manner shall I draw upon you when 
I wish for funds ?” 


170 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


I have considered that matter,” replied the 
lawyer, “and will arrange it in this way, if it 
meets your approval. I will place a sum of 
money in the bank, subject to your check, and 
will instruct the bank to honor all drafts you 
make upon it. In this way you will have 
less trouble than if you came to me whenever 
you happened to require money. Your father 
suggested something of the kind.” 

“ This arrangement is perfectly satisfactory 
to me,” said Starr, and, after some further con- 
versation with his counsel, departed for home. 
This was the first time that he had been away 
from it since his father’s death some two weeks 
before. On his way to the attorney’s office, he 
had stopped for a moment at his old home, but 
Dr. Hendon had been away for a week or more, 
and the servants were unable to say when he 
would return. 

Reaching home, Starr went directly to his 
own room. What he had been doing for the 
past two weeks he did not know. He remem- 
bered attending his father’s funeral and, after it 
was over, going to his chamber ; but of the in- 
terval between that time and the morning of the 
present day, his memory seemed to have made 
no record. It was not until he had made some 


A DOUBLE LIFE, I/I 

inquiries that he became aware that he had al- 
lowed two weeks to slip away unnoticed. He 
recalled instructing his servants not to call him, 
and he well knew that, after such an order had 
been issued, he would not be disturbed by any 
of his own household until he so willed it. 

The fact that he was not able to explain his 
unconsciousness of the lapse of time did not give 
him any uneasiness. Now and then he had 
known a day to pass without his knowledge, 
but had not troubled himself to account for it. 

While sitting and meditating a little upon this 
matter, it occurred to his mind that he ought to 
see in what condition was the subject upon 
which his father and himself had been at work 
when the fatal accident occurred. He went to 
the little room in the third story, and found the 
body lying there just as he had left it to ascer- 
tain what the trouble was when he heard the 
explosion. If he had felt any doubts as to the 
embalming qualities of his father’s preparations, 
they were at once and forever dispelled. The 
body of the dead criminal lay before him, ap- 
parently as healthy as when the life blood was 
flowing through the veins. It might have been 
a man quietly sleeping, but Starr knew this was 
impossible, for the frame did not contain one 


172 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


drop of blood. Scattered around the room 
were the instruments that had been required 
in the work. Here and there were batteries 
and retorts, and near at hand was the pump con- 
structed by Starr for the purpose of drawing 
fluids from and pumping them into the veins. 

As Starr looked upon the work so unhappily 
interrupted, the* old feelings began to stir in his 
heart, and the old ambition to restore life to an 
inanimate being, to reassert itself. 

He drew a chair near to the table, and sit- 
ting down, allowed his thoughts to wander 
whithersoever they would. At first they dwelt 
upon the undertaking now before him, and he 
realized how much he should miss in it his 
father’s assistance. Then his mind wandered 
back to the words last spoken by that father’s 
lips. 

Starr was sorry he had not found Dr. Hendon 
at home, for otherwise he might have recovered 
the ring and seen what it contained. Again he 
thought of his father’s remarks about old age 
and the ability to stay the advance of time. He 
had never supposed the Professor to be above 
fort3\ From this he drifted to the questions of 
theology, and he pondered long upon them. He 
had never given them much attention before. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


173 


but now he adopted without reservation his 
father’s views, and ever after acted upon 
them. 

How could he have done otherwise? Can 
the ideas advanced by that dying man be re- 
futed ? How many know anything about this 
hereafter ? We desire to believe in immortality, 
and accept the slightest proof that is offered us 
of its reality. We cannot be made to think that 
the supreme power which governs all things 
should place us here without our knowledge or 
consent, endow us with reason, then give us a 
cup to drink which contains more wormwood 
than nectar, with no possible change to a better 
and higher condition. Yet the assurance of a 
future life is too vague to convince any thinking 
man. Unpleasant doubts will intrude them- 
selves upon us at times. Infinitely better is it 
to rest quietly in the belief that it is part of the 
wisdom of our Creator to keep from us all 
knowledge of the world to come until we enter, 
freed from the darkness of earth, upon the glory 
of its light. 

But what can we say as to Professor Barlow’s 
classification of sin ? While we acknowledge 
the originality of the idea, are we not compelled 
to admit the reasonableness of it ? Let us say 


174 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


that there is another existence after we pass 
from this, and in it we do not need bodies, at 
least such as we have now and shall then have 
left behind us; admitting this, consider the 
number of temptations to sin we also leave be- 
hind with those bodies. 

Could we exist without these “ frail tenements 
of clay,” we should have no animal appetites and 
passions to do battle with. The legion of sins 
that follow the acquisition of wealth would not 
be known, for there would be no need of money. 
Are not the majority of sins such as will die with 
the body ? 

But there are other transgressions which 
might be committed without the body, and 
those must follow us wherever we go ; we can- 
not put them aside. The punishment for that 
sinning will come to us here and hereafter. We 
can see the penalty attached to this class, exe- 
cuted every day. ^ He who is jealous of another, 
who misrepresents himself or his neighbor, who 
deceives or falsifies in any manner, commits sin 
that never dies. A man may abuse himself by 
over-indulgence in any bodily pleasure ; but if 
his soul (or spirit, or mind — whatever we call 
the part of man which we consider immortal) 
be not contaminated, he has done nothing that 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


175 


in the hereafter can rise up against him, pro- 
vided, in this sinning he does not endanger the 
life or happiness of others. It is true that the 
reckless commission of one kind of wickedness 
makes it easy and natural to fall into the other, 
but it does not necessarily follow. How many 
kind-hearted men, who are acknowledged to be 
upright, conscientious citizens, are yet unable 
to restrain the appetite for strong drink ! Were 
it not for their inability to break away from 
their bodily sin, would they not be as near per- 
fect as finite man can be ? 

Are there not others who are never accused 
of over-indulgence in animal propensities, who 
yet are shunned by their fellow men? You can- 
not give your reason for your distrust of a man 
of this sort, but you feel that his mind is 
corrupt. Of these two classes of men (and their 
representatives are all around you), which do 
you think will receive the fairer reward and the 
severer condemnation, let that reward or that 
punishment come not alone in this life but as 
well in that life beyond? 

Professor Barlow was right. You need not fear 
the judgment of the next world if your only 
sins are those prompted by your feeble physical 
nature ; yet these, though they exist only in the 


76 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


body, should be checked, for they hasten the 
end, and no sane man desires to g‘ i. 

Taking Professor Barlow’s theory in this re- 
spect as the right one, taking your belief that 
there is a hereafter, is it not better that we 
should know little of that future state? Would 
not a man, believing in these two things and 
feeling sure that after death all the glories of an 
immortally painless existence will be his, would 
he not hasten the coming of that time, by yield- 
ing to the many temptations that came in his 
way? He would be honest, truthful, kind, 
thoughtful, impartial, and considerate toward 
all but himself. This he could do and yet 
gratify himself in many of the most hurtful of 
the physical sins ; his time on earth would be 
short, but what would he care ? So much the 
sooner would the delights of heaven be his. 

Can there be any doubt that the Professor 
had taken as long strides toward the truth in 
theology as he had distanced his fellows in 
science? 

We must ever bear in mind that the line of 
demarcation between the natural and the super- 
natural, between what is and what will be, is 
very vague and obscure, even to the most intel- 
ligent, and is it not one of the unwritten laws of 
God that it should be ? 


CHAPTER XVI. 


T T had been four months since his master’s 
death, and Zeno remained in the same 
condition as when Professor Barlow gave 
him the last instructions. He had eaten and 
drank, but had shown no disposition to re- 
tire and sleep, as do ordinary people in good 
health. One thing peculiar was the fact that 
he continued to write as before his daily re- 
ports, and place them in his master’s desk. 
He spoke to no one, and so far as could be 
seen, heard nothing, save when Starr ad- 
dressed him ; then he would answer. 

Starr clearly saw that there was some rela- 
tion between the present mesmeric condition 
of Zeno and the latter’s last interview with 
the dying professor. One day he questioned 
the man with regard to this. Zeno an- 
swered, 

“ I — cannot — tell — ” 


i;8 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


“You don’t know?” asked Starr. 

“ I — know — but — cannot — tell — ” 

“ Is it something that you are to do ?” 

“ Yes — but — I — can — say — no — more — ” 

Starr was too well acquainted with the 
workings of mesmerism to attempt to per- 
suade Zeno to give further explanation. 

Zeno’s life had of late undergone this 
change, that, whereas before he had confined 
himself exclusively to the house, rarely if 
ever going outside the door, he now was 
often away from home for a whole day. 
Starr did not interfere in this ; his sense of 
honor would not permit him to try to dis- 
cover a secret that he plainly saw his father 
had wished to keep such even from him. 
He rather believed it his duty to further the 
undertaking whatever it might be, which had 
been intrusted to Zeno, and so when the 
latter came to him with a request for money 
Starr always gave it, without asking the pur- 
pose for which it was needed. 

Dr. Hendon had now and then noticed a 
small, wary, unhealthy-looking man, who 
seemed interested in him, and once had 
asked if he could be of any service, but had 
received no reply. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


179 


Zeno, one evening, sat in a cnair in his 
room, where he might have been found at 
any time since his master's death, save when 
away as before stated. He was looking at 
the ceiling with an expression which indi- 
cated that he was studying some intricate 
problem. Suddenly he started up, and seiz- 
ing his hat, hastened from the house. It was 
about ten o’clock, a cold, dreary night, but 
though thinly clad, Zeno did not seem to 
realize how inclement was the weather, but 
hurried along to the residence of Dr. Hen- 
don, Going to the rear door, which he 
seemed to know would not be closed till 
after ten, he pushed it open, and stealthily 
entered. 

Dr. Hendon was sitting in the little room 
he called his study. The only light in the 
room came from a drop-lamp on the table in 
the centre. While there were also two Side- 
brackets, and a small chandelier, they were 
rarely used. He was now sitting near the 
desk, his head resting on his hands, which 
were folded on the desk. He had been out 
in the cold,' and on coming into the warm 
room, had gradually fallen asleep. 

The door opened softly and Zeno crept in. 


i8o 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


He moved silently across the room, and, 
bending over the Doctor, tried to take from 
the folded hands a bunch of keys, which the 
owner had placed there, evidently intending 
to unlock some other part of the desk, but 
the slightest movement seemed to rouse the 
sleeper. After several unsuccessful efforts, 
Zeno desisted, and for a few moments 
seemed meditating. 

He then moved to the side-brackets, and 
turned the. thumb-screws, thus allowing the 
gas to escape. Going to the table he did 
the same with the chandelier and drop-lamp, 
extinguishing the light in the latter but turn- 
ing on the gas again, then left the room, 
closing the door cautiously behind him. 

Standing by the door he waited — waited 
till time could be counted as minutes — till 
those minutes became an hour — motionless, 
calm, — watching that no intruder should ap- 
pear — waited till the deadly gas had done 
its work. He appeared to be conscious that 
he was no longer required to use caution, 
and boldly opened the door wide. After a 
minute or two he entered the room, and, 
quickly going to the window, threw up the 
sash. He then turned off the gas, but im- 


A DOUBLE LIFE, l8l 

mediately returned to the window. After 
standing there a few minutes, he closed the 
shutters, leaving the window open, and go- 
ing to where the physician sat, removed from 
his hand the coveted keys. Like a man who 
had done the same thing many times before, 
he unlocked one of the drawers, took from 
it a folded paper, and left the room and 
the house. 

Hastening home, and to his chamber, he 
laid the paper unopened upon a dish, lighted 
a match and touched it to the folded sheet, 
and the ante-mortem disclosures of Professor 
Barlow’s wife shrivelled to ashes. As it 
burned, a change came slowly over Zeno ; 
the last spark had hardly died, when the 
old palsied tremor appeared in the shrunken 
frame, the old dreamy light came into the 
eyes, the same expressive lack of expression 
asserted itself, and Zeno was awake. He had 
wrought his mission. He had done all that 
was asked of him, and what had he done? 

He had, it is true, obtained possession of 
the desired paper, and had destroyed it, but 
in doing this he had carried out the orders 
of his master to the very letter; and Dr. 
Hendon, kind-hearted, conscientious man, was 


i 82 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


the offering that was made to appease the 
wrath (to Zeno) of that master. 

Dr. Hendon was dead, murdered, ft was 
unquestionably murder, premeditated ; but 
who was the murderer? If we apply the 
legal rule, Zeno was not, for he had no per- 
sonal motive; he received no reward, gained 
no advantage, and was benefited in no way 
whatever. Besides all this, there is a strong- 
er argument in his defence that in itself 
would be sufficient, and that is, that Zeno 
was not in his right mind, and did not know 
what had occurred. Legally he was an in- 
nocent man, and there can be no doubt that 
his act was morally justifiable considering 
his condition. 

As for Professor Barlow, he could not be 
said, legally, to have committed the crime, 
for at the time of its consummation he had 
been dead for months. Yet we cannot shut 
our eyes to the fact that he was the real 
actor, though Zeno was the apparent agent. 

What can we say in the defence of this 
singular man? He did not wish that Dr. 
Hendon should die, if the paper could be 
obtained otherwise. He did know that if 
that paper were not destroyed, it would 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 1 83 

sometime be a death-warrant not only to 
himself, but to Starr. He had learned that 
while Dr. Hendon considered what it con- 
tained only as the ramblings of a diseased 
mind, it was harmless, but when it came to 
be understood that they were revelations of 
startling facts, the Professor knew Dr. Hen- 
don too well to doubt that the paper would 
be given to the authorities, with the evidence 
that the physicians possessed of the proba- 
bility of its entire truth. And should the 
people be led to believe that it rested in the 
power of a man in their midst to destroy 
their city, would they be content to let that 
man live ? 

Could not Professor Barlow justify his 
deed, and be consistent with the doctrine 
that he promulgated to his son ? He had 
nothing to gain by the Doctor’s death ; at the 
time he was dying, and nothing could be 
done to affect him personally. He was 
prompted only by his love for his son. 
Again, if he had lived, it still was important 
that the disclosures should not be made 
known. We could not blame him if in self- 
defense he had taken the life of many men, 
who would certainly have deemed it their 


184 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


duty to kill him had they known his secret, 
not because he had committed any crime, but 
because he held in his hands a power which 
it would not be safe for the community that 
any human being should possess ; that paper 
charged him with that very power. Thus 
Dr. Hendon, dying as he did an innocent 
man, gave his life for the lives of many. In 
his decease all living witnesses of Addle’s 
death-bed revelations had passed away, and 
with the awakening of Zeno, all the written 
evidence had turned to ashes. The prophecy 
made by the dying woman on that Novem- 
ber night in 1850 was now fulfilled; that 
either the witnesses of her last moments 
would die, or the disclosures she made 
would cause the death of many others. 
Those who surrounded her death-bed had 
gone where their knowledge would not affect 
the living. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


OTARR was much surprised to hear of the 
^ death of his former guardian. He re- 
ceived the news the morning after its occur- 
rence, and during the day chanced to come 
upon Zeno awake. He could not help attach- 
ing the two circumstances together, particularly 
when he recalled to mind the conversation he 
had had with Zeno in regard to the latter’s mes- 
meric condition. He did not question Zeno, 
but he felt that there was some connection be- 
tween the two events. 

To say that Starr was not grieved to learn 
that his old friend was dead would not be doing 
him justice. He attended the funeral, and a 
short time after received a note from Largur 
requesting him to call at the office. He did so, 
and there learned that Dr. Hendon had willed 
the bulk of his property in trust for himself, 
should he, ever feel the need of it. But if there 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


1 86 

should remain anything in the hands of the 
trustee at the decease of Starr, it was to be 
turned over to some charitable institution 
named in the will. The lawyer also gave Starr 
a little box, saying that it was found marked 
with his name. Opening the box, Starr saw 
that it contained the ring which his father had 
spoken of, when dying, as having belonged to 
his dead mother. 

Starr hastened home and, on arriving there, 
at once proceeded to follow out his father’s 
directions with regard to examining the ring. 
He took off the top in the manner described by 
the Professor, and saw a most remarkable pic- 
ture. It was of the style technically called a 
vignette, and represented merely the head and 
shoulders of a very young girl ; but the peculi- 
arity of it lay in the manner in which it was in- 
serted into the frame. By some arrangement 
of glasses or some other means not apparent, 
the painting was made to look life-size. How 
to account for this optical delusion Starr was at 
a loss to explain, nor had he any idea of whom 
the likeness might be. If it was his mother’s 
picture taken in her girlhood, it did not resem- 
ble very much the other portraits of her which 
he had seen. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


187 


Starr was disappointed ; he had expected to 
find something else — he hardly knew what. 
He replaced the top and, dropping the ring into 
its box, threw it carelessly into a drawer in his 
desk. As he did so, some papers in the back of 
the drawer attracted his attention. He took 
them out and saw that they were written to 
himself. Without closing the drawer, he went 
to another part of the room to examine this new 
discovery. The manuscript was written in the 
Professor’s well-known hand, and evidently 
formed part of the records with which he had 
busied himself for the last year or more before 
his death. With three exceptions they did not 
contain much of value to Starr. 

One was a recipe for a preparation for sus- 
pending animation. A second contained direc- 
tions for resolving water into its elemental 
gases by means of electricity. Some of the 
results which Professor Barlow had reached 
were given, and also the statement that by this 
process water not only can be made to separate 
into its component parts, but also to ignite and 
burn. 

This Starr saw was a dangerous secret 
to be held in the keeping of any man, and he 
remembered what his father had said when dy- 


i88 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


ing, no doubt in reference to this discovery. 
Evidently any one who possessed the knowl- 
edge of such a process, would be able to con- 
sume any body of water that he might wish. 
Few there are to whom this secret might be 
safely intrusted ; few whose brains could carry 
it, without the result of a mad attempt to put it 
into execution. 

Starr marvelled much that his father, usually 
so cautious, should have allowed himself to 
place his theory upon paper, much more to 
have laid it so carelessly aside. 

The third, and to Starr the most interesting 
of the documents he had found, was a statement 
in regard to what had been done towards the 
conveyance upon screens of the impressions 
on the mind of a mesmeric clairvoyant subject. 

The idea was a novel one, and the young 
scientist became very much absorbed in the 
perusal of his father’s theories concerning it. 
They covered eight or ten pages of foolscap, 
and Starr read and reread them till he full}" 
understood the subject as far as it was there 
followed out. Professor Barlow had not suc- 
ceeded in making any practical application of 
his idea, but he attributed his failure to a fault 
in the construction of the screen used. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


189 


He wrote that, in his opinion, he was mistaken 
when he acted upon the theory that the screen 
should be constructed upon the same general 
principle as the eye. 

Starr, still holding the paper in his hand, sat 
meditating and almost motionless for nearly an 
hour; then drawing a deep breath, he said 
aloud — 

“ I think it might be overcome in that way. 
It will take a long time to complete the arrange- 
ments, but it is worth years of trial, and I can see 
no other plan that would be likely to succeed — 
father has gone over the ground so thoroughly. 
I will do it.” 


CHAPTER XVIIl. 


T N a small story-and-a-half house situated on 
^ the east side of the Hudson, some eight or 
ten miles north of the city, lived a widow with 
her only child, a daughter almost fifteen years 
of age. This young girl was one of those rare 
beings who in their lives give us a glimpse of 
what heaven might be. Her charm lay not so 
much in her face and form, though they could 
not fail to attract admiring eyes, but in her pure, 
thoughtful mind, her trustfulness and calm as- 
surance that came from a belief, as yet unshaken, 
that all mankind are as sincere and guileless 
as she had ever found her mother, her pastor, 
and the few acquaintances that she was permit- 
ted to call her friends. She had never seen the 
necessity for concealing any emotion that the 
situation in which she might happen to be placed 
would naturally call forth. With an abiding 
confidence in her associates that drew from them 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


I9I 

a responsive feeling, no one could look into her 
honest countenance and for a moment think of 
tempting her to swerve from her truthful life. 
Her firm belief that those with whom she came 
in contact were as genuine as herself, was 
shown in the fact that she invariably attributed 
the best motives possible to the acts of others. 
Her clear blue eyes looked beyond the exterior 
even to the hearts of her friends and said, by 
their expression, I love and trust you, and 
have no doubt that you love me.'’ No matter 
how unscrupulous, how wicked a man might 
be, when such a one came into her presence he 
seemed to realize that she would see only the 
good in him, and he strove instinctively to keep 
from her the knowledge of all that was bad. 

Trustful little Carrie Brown! Will heaven 
be less a heaven to you for want of something 
vile to compare it with ? 

Are angels less angelic to you than to us ? 

Does the word wickedness” have a different 
meaning in your vocabulary from what it does 
in burs ? 

Will even you be able to continue in that in- 
nocent life that you are now living, or is it inev- 
itable that you should either die or become 
.contaminated by association with people who 


192 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


should be benefited by your example? Time 
alone can answer. 

Carrie had’ lived with her widowed mother 
on this little place for nearly ten years. She 
had a dim recollection of having once lived in 
the city, but had no desire now to return there ; 
the harmony between the quiet country life and 
her own nature was too great to make a change 
desirable. 

Simple maiden Carrie had never dreamed of 
any interruption to her homely life. Her 
mother, it is true, had mentioned that a possi- 
ble change might come, but she had thought 
very little about it. She had been informed 
that it was to the generous care of Dr. Hendon 
she owed her present almost independent exist- 
ence. When her father, who had been in the 
employ of Dr. Hendon, had died, and the kind- 
hearted physician had seen that he should need 
the house occupied by the Browns for a new 
employe, he bethought himself of the little place 
on the Hudson with its acre or two of land, and 
said to himself, “ Sometime I intend to build a 
summer residence, but until then why should I 
not allow this poor widow and her flaxen-haired 
child to live there ?” Seeing no reason, he sug- 
gested it to the widow, and she, having no rela- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


193 


tives or friends who could assist her, gladly ac- 
cepted the kind offer. Moreover, Dr. Hendon, 
never doing things by halves, set aside an an- 
nuity for the support of the two, telling Mrs. 
Brown that he considered he owed it for the 
services that she and her husband had rendered 
him. The lonely widow, with the same simple 
confidence in mankind that was so marked in 
her daughter, gratefully accepting the kindness, 
moved to her new home, and for the last ten 
years had divided her time between the in- 
structing of her child and the cultivation of the 
small garden which surrounded the house. 

It is early evening, and mother and daughter 
are sitting in the quiet room, facing the narrow 
road that winds from one village to the other. 
Mrs. Brown sits near the Gothic window, 
watching the slow coming on of twilight. 
Carrie is at the organ, playing in a minor key 
that chords well with the surroundings. 

“ My dau^ghter,” said the mother, “ have you 
looked over the new music that Dr. Hendon 
sent you a few days ago ?” 

“ Yes, mother, and I like it all very much.” 

“ Will you sing me one of the songs?” 

“ Why, indeed I will, mother. Which shall it 
be ?” 


194 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


Oh, I am not at all particular as to that.” 

Then, I will sing them all,” and the young 
girl moved towards a music-rack that stood in 
the corner of the room. 

No,” she said, stopping and turning in the 
direction of her mother. “ I will sing you one 
to-night, the second and third some other even- 
ing when you want me to, and I will take them 
just as they come, though I like one of them 
much better than I do the others.” 

Just as it pleases you, my child,” responded 
the mother, though none of them will be en- 
tirely new, as I have heard you practising them, 
but did not give the attention that I will now.” 

The girl took a sheet of music from the pile 
and, reseating herself at the organ, sang, in a 
clear contralto voice, “ The Days of Old.” Tears 
started to the woman’s eyes when the sweet 
voice sang, 

“The churchyard lies full in sight, Lulu, 

And the graves are green and fair; 

But the heart is a living tomb. Lulu, 

And our dead are buried there.” 

The loving heart recalled her own dead, and 
the days when a tender husband was ever 
thoughtfully interested in her welfare, and for a 
moment forgetting herself in thinking of that 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 1 95 

life and the death that so ruthlessly changed it, 
she sighed. 

Carrie, turning at the sound and seeing her 
mother in tears, hastened and knelt at her side 
and clasped the hands that were lying in her 
lap and, looking up, exclaimed, ‘‘ What is it, my 
mother? Are you ill ?” 

“ It was but a momentary sorrow, my dar- 
ling,” said the mother, as she hastily composed 
herself. It has all passed away now. Have 
you noticed how beautifully God has pencilled 
the clouds and sky this evening ?” and she raised 
the head that had fallen upon her hands and, 
smoothing the light hair, gave her child a 
mother’s kiss ; then, pointing to the slowly dark- 
ening sky, talked of its beauty. 

They were sitting and conversing thus, when 
there came in view the form of a young man. 
As he came opposite the house he stopped, as if 
attracted by the vine-clad porch. He had not 
yet noticed the woman who had been watching 
him. 

“ There is a young man, standing in the road 
looking in this direction. I wonder who it is?” 

Is it not neighbor Leonard’s son ?” asked 
Carrie, getting up and glancing out of the win- 
dow. 


196 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


“ No, I think not. It is too tall for George. 
He is moving this way. Who can it be ?” 

“ I don’t know,” replied Carrie. It may be 
one of the summer residents, who has lost his 
way and wants information.” 

“We will go and see,” said Mrs. Brown, as 
the stranger’s knock was heard upon the door. 

On opening the door, there stood before them 
a young man who could not have been over 
seventeen years of age. He was well dressed, 
although dusty as if he had travelled a long 
distance. 

“ I beg your pardon for thus intruding,” 
spoke the stranger in low, well bred tones, “ but 
would you kindly inform me how far it is to the 
next village ?” 

“ It is considered about four miles,” replied 
the widow. 

“So far as that! Is there any place near 
here where a stranger could find lodging ?” 

“ I do not know of any. You seem tired, and 
I judge by the dust upon your clothes you must 
have travelled some distance. You are wel- 
come to come in and rest yourself awhile here.” 

“ As I have travelled quite a distance, and am 
tired, I will avail myself of your kind permis- 
sion,” and he followed the two women into the 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


197 


room they had just vacated. Handing nim a 
chair, Mrs. Brown lighted the lamp upon the 
centre table, and sat down herself. 

Carrie took her position near her mother, and 
sat silent, now and then glancing at the youth 
with a puzzled expression as if she were trying 
to recall something or some one of whom his face 
reminded her. 

“ You are a stranger in this part of the coun- 
try?” asked the older lady. 

Yes, madam,” he replied, “ I do not remem- 
ber that I ever saw this section before.” 

Do you reside in New York ?” 

Yes, madam, I have never lived else- 
where.” 

May I ask if you have been to tea?” 

“I have not. I was so tired that I forgot 
about being hungry.” 

‘‘ How I pity you ! Hurry, Carrie, and get 
this young gentleman something to eat.” 

The young girl started to do her mother’s 
bidding, with tears of sympathy in her eyes. 
Their out-of-the-way life did not bring them 
many of the tramps that infest our land, and 
when, now and then, travellers stopped at the 
widow’s door, they were never sent away hun- 
gry or thirsty, for both she and her daughter 


198 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


had natures that keenly felt the sufferings of 
others. 

“ Were you going beyond the next village?” 
asked Mrs. Brown, when Carrie had gone. 

“ I was looking for work,” explained the 
guest. 

Have you any place in view ?” 

“ No, I have asked several people along the 
way, but they did not seem to need my ser- 
vices.” 

“ That is too bad ! too bad !” said the good 
woman, and as her daughter re-entered the 
room, bringing a tray on which was a daintily 
arranged luncheon, hastily taken from the pan- 
try, she continued, “ Draw up your chair and 
eat some bread and drink some tea. They will 
revive you.” 

The youth did so, and mother and daughter, 
ignorant of the rules of etiquette, watched him 
while he ate. 

On finishing his meal, the stranger arose, and 
taking up his hat, said : 

“ I can pay you for the trouble I have put )^ou 
to, but not for the kindness you have shown me. 
I will now say ‘ Good evening,’ and continue 
my journey.” 

“ I do not ask for pay,” the widow replied, as 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 1 99 

he started towards the door. If I have done 
you any service, my reward lies in that, and in 
the blessed assurance that I have, in some meas- 
ure, lightened the burden of a fellow-mortal. 

On opening the door, they saw that one of 
those storms that come so suddenly in the sum- 
mer, was about to break upon them, and Mrs. 
Brown’s heart was too tender to allow a guest 
to leave her house under such circumstances ; 
so she urged the young man to again lay aside 
his hat, and remain with them till the shower 
was past. He was easily persuaded, and the 
three returned to the sitting-room, where they 
sat and talked the rest of the evening, talked 
as only those can who every moment find in one 
another some new quality to respect and ad- 
mire. It was with no fear that Mrs. Brown 
expressed her wish that the youth should abide 
under her roof for the night. 

In the morning the guest, who could no 
longer be considered a stranger, arose with the 
sun, but not before his hostess, for he found her 
in her garden at work among the vegetables. 
He came to her and, responding to her kindly 
morning greetings, took the tools and began to 
assist her. So they worked and talked together 
till Carrie came to call them to breakfast. It 


200 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


was during this meal that the widow bethought 
herself that she could give the young man work 
in her garden, instead of employing one of her 
neighbors, as had been her custom ; so she said : 

“ I now and then hire a man to do the hoe- 
ing, and if you think you could do it, and 
would be willing to undertake the work, I will 
pay you what I have been accustomed to pay 
Mr. Leonard.” 

“ Nothing would please me more,” returned 
the youth, and as for pay, I should not expect 
so much as you have given before, for I shall 
not be able to work as fast or as well as would 
an older person, and besides, you board me, 
whereas, I suppose your neighbor must have 
taken his meals at home.” 

“Oh, what you eat,” exclaimed Mrs. Brown, 
“ would not count much. However, we will 
leave the matter of wages till 3^ou complete 
your work. I must ask you, as I have no other 
means of knowing, by what name we shall call 
you ?” 

“My name” — and a look of surprise passed 
over the young man’s face — “ Oh ! why, yes, to 
be sure, it had not occurred to me that you did 
not know. My name is Edward True.” 

Thus it was that Edward True became an 


A DOUBLE LTFE. 


201 


inmate of the humble home of Widow Brown. 
His admission into that household without a 
more comprehensive knowledge of his antece- 
dents is open to grave criticism, but both women 
were too noble-minded to be suspicious. They 
could be, and were at times, imposed upon, but 
such imposition was rare, for their sincere desire 
to show their sympathy and love for all with 
whom they came in contact, ever formed a safe- 
guard and a shield. They had, unwittingly, 
demonstrated the fact that men, as a rule, are 
just what we believe and make them. Treat a 
man as if you considered him honest, and, in 
nine cases out of ten, he will prove worthy of 
your confidence. The widow had ever, in her 
dealings with others, acted upon this maxim. 

Edward True remained with the Browns for 
twelve days, and during that time his hostess 
never had seen cause to regret his coming 
among them. He was ever careful and con- 
siderate of their feelings, always thoughtful for 
their welfare, constantly on the watch for an 
opportunity to do some little act that would 
lessen for them the cares and anxiety that follow 
all earthly lives. He bowed his head reverently 
when, on the second evening of his stay, the 
widow knelt to ask that the blessing of her own 


202 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


and her father’s God might rest upon her house- 
hold. When, on the Sabbath following, she 
invited her guest to go with them to the little 
church, a mile or two from their home, he 
gladly complied, and that evening knelt with 
the other two at their family altar. 

Neither of the young people ever showed any 
embarrassment in each other’s presence. Carrie 
often sang and played, while her mother and 
Edward sat near and listened. Now and then, ^ 
the mother or daughter read from some book 
or paper that interested them all, and one even- 
ing toward the last of Edward’s stay, Carrie 
asked him to read to them. He consented, and 
surprised them by his rich, clear, and finely 
modulated voice. 

One morning, as he did not appear at the 
usual time, Mrs. Brown rapped once or twice 
upon the door of his room and, receiving no 
response, entered to find it vacant. The bed 
had evidently not been occupied. The mother 
and daughter, somewhat alarmed, made dili- 
gent search for him, for they had, in that short 
time, become much attached to Edward, and 
would gladly have allowed things to move along 
in that smooth, pleasant way they had taken 
since his arrival. They now went to the 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


203 


houses of several of their neighbors, to see if 
any information could be obtained concerning 
their missing friend, but no one could give them 
the slightest clew as to his whereabouts. He 
had gone as suddenly and mysteriously as he 
had come ; but the two women he had made his 
friends felt sure that he would not have left 
them in that unceremonious manner, without 
bidding them good-by, or receiving the money 
that was his due, unless there were some good 
reason for it. Each day the}^ looked for him 
to return and explain his sudden disappearance, 
but the days passed into weeks, the weeks into 
months; spring gave way to genial summer; 
autumn, with its wealth of color, came to the 
little home on the Hudson, and yet no Edward! 

They often talked of him and of his kindly 
deeds ; but as time went on without bringing 
them news of their absent friend, they spoke of 
him more and more as of one not absent but 
dead. 

One afternoon in the late fall, as Mrs. Brown 
and Carrie were sitting by the fire that the cool 
weather had made necessary, a rap was heard 
on the door. Opening it, who should be seen 
standing on the step but Edward True ! He 
received a joyous welcome ; a welcome that 


204 ^ DOUBLE LIFE. 

must have carried with it the conviction of its 
own sincerity and of the love the two women 
bore him; and they could not fail to see how 
much pleasure it gave him to be once more 
with them. 

He carried in his hand a large valise, and 
told them he had come up on the afternoon 
train. When they chided him for leaving them 
so suddenly, he seemed bewildered. The}^ 
taking his look of surprise for one of annoyance, 
did not press the matter. After he had been 
with them for several days — the same kind, 
thoughtful friend as before — they again spoke 
of his going away without bidding them good- 
by. Once more they saw the same expression 
come into his face as on the afternoon of his 
arrival, and let the subject drop forever, as one 
that, for some reason, was unpleasant to him. 
They never, for an instant, suspected that any- 
thing was wrong in his thus leaving them and 
apparently not wishing to give them any expla- 
nation of his conduct. “To the pure all things 
are pure,” and they had no measure for others 
besides that afforded them by their own stainless 
lives and honest purposes. 

Edward True had remained with Mrs. Brown 
and her daughter for nearly three weeks, when. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


205 


one« morning, he told them that he must return 
to the city, promising, however, to make them 
another visit in a few months. During all the 
time he had been with them, he had never in 
any way alluded to his past or present life away 
from them. While Mrs. Brown wondered at 
this, especially- as she was very ready to talk of 
her own happy experience, she never intruded 
upon his affairs. When he came back to them, 
he took up his life in their quiet household, just 
where he had left it, and the love of the three 
for one another strengthened every day they 
were together. 

On leaving, Edward presented Carrie with a 
volume of the poems of her favorite author, and 
gave her mother a book that he had heard her 
express a desire to possess. He took away with 
him their best wishes for his welfare, and the 
oft expressed hope that the time would be short 
before they saw him again. 

The time was not brief, however; for six 
months elapsed before he again sat with them 
in the tiny parlor. In the meantime their bene- 
factor, Dr. Hendon, had died, but he had not 
forgfotten the two women whom he had be- 
friended. They were informed by his attorney 
that he had devised to them the house and 


2o6 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


land that had for so long been their home, 
with an additional legacy sufficient to keep them 
from want during their lives. Consequently, 
Edward, on his return, found them in mourning, 
and, somewhat surprised, asked the reason. 
They explained it to him, telling him with tears 
in their eyes of the loss of their kind-hearted 
friend. 

When the name of Dr. Hendon was men- 
tioned, they noticed a wondering look come 
slowly into his eyes, and they asked him if he 
was acquainted with the physician. 

“ No,” he replied, hesitatingly. “ I don’t 
think I am, and yet I must have heard that 
name before,” and the perplexed expression 
overshadowed his pleasant countenance. 

“ He was a very benevolent man, living in 
New York, and perhaps you have heard his 
name mentioned in connection with some deed 
of charity,” said the widow. 

“ I think that must be why the name sounds 
so familiar,” replied Edward. But it was some 
time before the puzzled wonder left his face. 
When it did, he was again the Edward they 
knew and liked so well, and the evening was 
spent in quiet enjoyment. 


CHAPTER XIX. 



IVE years have passed since we left Starr 


^ thinking over the subject of presenting to 
the eye the results of mesmeric clairvoyance. 
VV e find him now looking older than before, show- 
ing that he has not worn the life-belt his father 
gave him when dying. He is sitting in a room 
on the second floor of his house, which adjoins the 
room rnade memorable to us by the interview 
which took place there between the Professor 
and Dr. Hendon. It has that luxurious appear- 
ance which only wealth and taste can supply. 

One side of the room was completely occu- 
pied by a heavy, dark cabinet. Upon pedestals, 
standing here and there, were placed pieces of 
sculpture that, like the paintings hung on the 
wall, seemed more suited to the feelings of the 
man than the other appointments of the room. 
At the right was the “ Dying Gladiator,” the 
only piece of statuary that the room contained 


2o8 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


which in any way would strike one as familiar. 
At the left of the centre was a marble repre- 
sentation of a small group of men and women 
wearing each other’s heads; here a small, deli- 
cately formed girl with a large, coarse, mascu- 
line head, her own being set upon the shoul- 
ders of an old woman bent with age. A youth’s 
head was placed upon the shoulders of a woman 
sitting opposite, but in such a manner that the 
back of the head was on a line with the front 
of the body. A head, evidently once the prop- 
erty of the old woman, was set on the jaunty 
shoulders of the youth. The head that the 
woman had discarded for that of the youth was 
held in the hands of an old man, who, apparently, 
after many years of experience, did not see the 
need of any head. The sculptor probably in- 
tended to portray, in this ludicrous manner; the 
propensity which many people show to borrow 
other heads than their own. The more the 
work was studied, the more impressive became 
the lesson it conveyed. 

On the right of the centre was a figure of a 
giant, held in a recumbent position by each hair 
being fastened to a peg driven into the ground, 
and also by spider threads covering his whole 
body and attached to pins ; spiders were repre- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


209 


scnted moving over his body in different direc- 
tions, spinning their tiny threads as they were 
driven along by pigmies. The confined man, 
judging from his expression, was making pro- 
digious efforts to free himself. The whole 
might well be an allegorical representation of 
the feelings that Starr must have inherited from 
his father. 

Near the wall at the opposite side of the 
entrance was a statue dressed in the garb of 
a court fool, with his hands bound behind him ; 
attached to a rod extending from his head, was 
an apple, fixed in such a manner that it at first 
looked as if he might reach and bite it. He was 
represented as bending over in the attitude of 
one who was about to take a dainty morsel, but 
the expression of his face indicated that he had 
begun to distrust his power to reach the fruit. 
Like the others, this piece of statuary seemed 
to convey a lesson in accord with the views of 
its owner. 

Of the paintings hung around the room, two 
were from Dante’s Inferno, and one from Para- 
dise Lost : two were companion pictures, the 
one representing “The First Morning,” the 
other “The Last Day.” On the table, in a 
velvet frame, appeared the face, and only the 


210 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


face, of a beautiful girl, all the other parts, even 
the hair, being shrouded in clouds. It was the 
face of Starr’s mother, and to gratify some 
whim he had caused it to be painted in that 
way. 

Starr was sitting in a large stuffed chair, and 
leaning his arm on the table. He had made some 
radical changes in the years that he had been 
master in that house. He had increased his 
corps of servants from time to time, until now 
their number reached into the teens, and, unlike 
his father, he had certain special duties for each 
of them. If anything, he exerted more control 
over them than even his father had done. He 
had servants who had come into his house, un- 
conscious of their very existence, and had re- 
mained so ever since. Unlike the Professor, 
too, he acted on the principle that it would be 
better for him, and just as well for them, if he 
never allowed them to come out of their mes- 
meric sleep, and it was rarely, if ever, that he 
permitted it. To all intents and purposes, when 
he once got control of their minds, they were 
dead; for is it not as well to be dead as to be 
unable to realize what one is doing, or what is 
going on around one ? 

A young girl appeared on the threshold, he^i- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


2 


tated a moment, and then moved forward to 
where Starr was sitting. He was so absorbed 
in thought, that he did not hear her ; she waited 
patiently for a time, hoping that he would look 
up ; but as he did not, she gave a little cough. 
He started and, looking up, exclaimed, What 
now ?” 

“1 — I — I want — ” and a look of supplication 
came into her face. It was but for an instant, 
for the eyes of the young man became more 
steel-like as he watched her, and she never fin- 
ished the sentence she had begun ; her eyes 
took on the dreamy look that seemed destined 
to be theirs forever, and she stood before him 
as in the presence of an acknowledged master. 

“ I don’t see what this means,” Starr said half 
angrily. “ This is the second time she has 
come to herself without my knowledge or 
consent, and each time it has been after one 
of my sleepy spells. How long were you 
awake, Br^te?” 

“ Two days, and I should have left the house, 
had not Thomas prevented me.” 

“ Thomas did just right. Now, Br^te, I 
don’t want you to wake up till I tell you you 
may.” 

“ I will not,” consented BrHe. 


212 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


They stood and watched each other for three 
or four minutes, as if in conversation, when the 
girl retired from the room. Starr then began 
to pace back and forth, back and forth, now 
and then stopping as if listening for some ex 
pected sound. Once he started toward the 
door as if he would go and ascertain the cause 
of the delay. He was fretful and nervous, as 
usual after one of his long sleeps. Presently a 
Moise was heard, as if some one were stumbling 
along in an intoxicated condition, and soon 
there appeared in the door-way, two men, one 
holding the other as if to prevent him from 
falling. 

“ Well, Watch, how is your charge, to-day?” 
was the greeting they received from Starr. 

“ He is doing very well, my master,” re- 
sponded the older of the two. 

“ Have you taught him anything new?” 

“ I have taught him to walk without help.” 

“ Let me see.” 

The one called Watch pushed the other into 
the room, and, taking up one leg, and moving 
it forward gave him a little shove; the man 
tottered rather than walked across the apart- 
ment, but did not stop when he reached the 
other side ; instead, he ran squarely against the 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


213 


wall, and slid down upon the floor, all the time 
making the same motions with his feet. Watch 
went to him, picked him up, stopped the motion 
of his legs and placed him against the wall. 

It is not so satisfactory as I had hoped,” 
said Starr, “ and there seems little encourage- 
ment to continue this much longer. Here it 
has been five years since he first commenced to 
breathe anew, and he has improved scarcely at 
all. From time to time, in response to some 
new invention, he- has changed for the better, 
and yet he is not a man with the indication of 
knowledge that I had expected. I am almost 
discouraged ; I thought it would be so easy ! 
Long before this, I intended to have father 
back with me,” and Starr looked at the man, 
leaning against the wall, as if in some way he 
was to blame. 

It had no effect. The creature stood there 
with his expressionless face turned toward 
Starr. His eyes were weak and glassy ; his 
arm hung loosely at his side ; his chin settled 
down on his breast — and this was the criminal 
that Starr had expected to restore to life, there- 
by to demonstrate his theory of the nature of 
death. This was the man who indirectly was the 
cause of Professor Barlow’s sudden decease, for, 


214 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


had it not been for the desire to try the effect of 
certain gases in resuscitation, that gentleman 
might be living to-day. 

Starr had succeeded in his endeavor so far 
as to make the man breathe ; this he had ac- 
complished by the use of electricity, applied 
to the chest and lungs. He had pumped from 
the veins the embalming fluid, and at the same 
time injected the warm blood from a sheep. 
It was not difficult then, by the employment 
of electricity, to cause the pulsations of the 
heart ; but there he came to a stand-still. 

The dead man lay before him breathing, his 
heart beating, but no other indication of life 
could be called forth. By the use of the strap 
which his father had invented to overcome 
gravitation, he succeeded in placing the man 
in a standing position. It was not until he 
had made some improvements in the Profes- 
sor’s life-belt that he saw any indications that 
the man was more than a machine. After this 
had been adapted, Starr had the satisfaction of 
seeing him swallow the nutriment placed upon 
his tongue. Up to that time, Starr had once 
in two or three days renewed the blood in the 
veins; but after the patient became able to 
take nourishment, the functions of the body 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


215 


began to take upon themselves the duties na- 
ture had assigned them. Only such food was 
selected as could be concentrated and easily 
digested. The result of all Starr’s labor and 
study, his time and money, was that he had 
restored his subject to a physical life. There 
was not one germ of intellect ever exhibited. 

Anything that was placed on the man’s tongue 
was swallowed ; he could not be called dainty, 
for buttons and old bits of iron were apparently 
relished as much as the most toothsome viands. 
If anything was too large to pass into his stom- 
ach, it choked him, and he coughed ; but the 
expression of his face did not change. If you 
cut him the blood would start, but he was per- 
fectly unconcerned as to that, and would bleed 
to — death? — well, till there was not one drop of 
blood left in his veins; and did you fix his 
mouth in the position of a smile, it would re- 
main so to the end. 

He would remind one of some men who are 
placed in office without any other qualification 
than their ability to smile. 

The patient could and did sleep most of the 
time. If anything came in contact with his 
eyes, he winked. He resembled a new-born 
child, with no more mental powers, and with- 


2i6 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


out the instinctive qualities which the infant 
possesses. 

It was a debatable question in the mind of 
Starr whether anything could be taught his 
subject. The most important*- thing he had 
learned was to walk, and in this he had to be 
watched more closely than would a child ; re- 
peated falls did not convey any lesson; he 
would tumble over the same obstacle all day, 
if he was only picked up and started again each 
time he fell. Starr had good reasons to feel 
disappointed in the result of his undertaking. 

Starr, after contemplating his work as it was 
exhibited before him, did as he had done many 
times before: ordered Watch to remove the 
body. This Watch did, taking him to a room 
in the ell of the building, that had been set 
apart for that use. 

On taking him to this place, Watch seated 
his patient in a chair, then, after placing a tall 
hat on the side of his scholar’s head, putting a 
clay pipe between the teeth, and drawing the 
lips down into what was to be considered a 
companionable smile, he stood back to criticise 
his work. The position of the pipe was satis- 
factory, but Watch changed the cant of the hat 
and altered the smile to one more genial. It 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


217 


took him some time that day to get just the 
sort of smile his fastidious taste required, but 
after a time he was satisfied. Then, drawing 
up a chair near his patient, he sat down, and 
placing his feet on the lap of the smiling man, 
took a fac-simile of the pipe from his pocket, 
lighted it, and said : 

“Well, come, old cove, let’s commence the 
conversation where we left off, when the old 
man requested our pfesence.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


GAIN we find ourselves at the little cottage 



nestling among the hills beside the Hud- 
son, whose every foot of ground is made sacred 
to lovers of literary as well as natural beauties, 
by the pen of Irving. Again we are at the 
quiet home of Widow Brown. Years have 
passed since our last visit, and we find that the 
honeysuckle and sweetbrier have crept up the 
sides of the house until it is almost hidden in 
their close embrace. 

It is evening, and the troupes of feathered 
songsters have sung their last chorus for the 
day, and have retired to rest among the buds, 
the blossoms, and the leaves. 

The light which streams from the lamp burn- 
ing in the parlor reaches out till it meets and 
welcomes the rays from the new house oppo- 
site. 

Within, we find the widow and her daughter, 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


219 


the same happy, contented souls as when we 
first saw them, with the same kind hearts thrill- 
ing in unison, with the same hopes for the 
future. The daughter still keeps her place at 
her mother’s feet, but the relation between them 
is one of such loving confidence that all joys 
and sorrows are mutual. There is little appar- 
ent change in the mother ; the timid but loving 
smile still lingers round her mouth ; the hair, 
brushed smoothly back from the broad fore- 
head, has no light pencilings to mark the forty 
years that have passed over her head ; the calm 
brown eyes, so expressive of the beautiful life 
behind them, have lost none of their youthful 
brightness. Dear, kind-hearted Mrs. Brown, 
how earnestly we wish that there were more 
like you, more who believed that, to follow the 
precepts of their Saviour, they should live in- 
wardly as well as outwardly true to that law, 
to that new commandment, “ that ye love one 
another !” 

The daughter has abundantly fulfilled the 
promise of her youth, and we find her, at eigh- 
teen, more beautiful than ever, none the less for 
the shade of thoughtfulness, upon her face, that 
naturally follows so close and so exclusive an 
association with an older person. She looks 


220 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


deliciously pure and lovely, in her spotless 
white dress, her fair hair braided and fastened 
demurely at the back of her small, daintily 
poised head. There is a new light in the soul- 
ful, trusting eyes, which tells of some strange, 
new feeling — the feeling that she must share with 
another the love she has hitherto given solely to 
her mother. She was not at first able to under- 
stand this new awakening, but questioned if she 
could possibly have the same absorbing affection, 
as before, for her parent and yet yield herself 
to her growing attachment for another ; but 
she soon began to realize that she loved her re- 
maining parent just as dearly as ever, though 
the new love, like and yet unlike the old, 
seemed filling all her heart. 

This affection had actually been steadily 
growing for years, yet the realization of it came 
like a sudden shock to the carefully nurtured 
girl. She had not been forced to premature 
womanhood in the hot-bed of city life, but had 
ever been a simple, unsophisticated country 
maiden. Too artless for coquetry, too noble- 
minded to deceive even herself, and too frank to 
attempt to mask her sentiments, when Edward 
True told her of his love, she freely admitted 
how much he was to her, and though he had to 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


22 I 


raise the head she had shyly bowed, to imprint 
upon her lips the betrothal kiss, her eyes met 
his so candidly that they spoke more eloquently 
than any words could have done. Now, as she 
sits idly near the table, with a book lying in 
her lap, and a far-off look creeping into her eyes, 
it is very easily guessed that she is thinking, 
not of the story she has been reading, not of the 
conversation that is being carried on in the 
room, but of Edward, her Edward. How like 
unto a heaven, bright with love and the fond 
assurance of true happiness, does the future ap- 
pear to her. Not a cloud in the horizon which 
is likely to rise and obscure that beautiful vision ; 
not a doubt comes to shake the blissful confi- 
dence that she is loved, that she loves wisely 
and well. But we, who are older, and have 
tried and tested life and found it hollow and its 
dreams of happiness vain and unsound, must 
turn away ; turn from the full-rounded face, 
where the carmine is growing deeper, turn from 
the rosy lips now slightly apart, turn as we hear 
the breath come quick and strong ; turn away 
from the eyes with their dewy brightness ; for 
we have no right to intrude our scepticism on 
that sweet faith. She has her heaven ; and 
though a full believer in the glorious hereafter. 


222 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


she has no desire to change the present for the 
heaven that will come only with death. 

There is a third person present to-night, and 
that person is no other than James Largur, Esq. 

This was his first visit to the cottage. Mrs. 
Brown had hitherto gone to his office when she 
needed his services, having become acquainted 
with him during the settlement of Dr. Hen- 
don’s estate, and the little legal business she 
had was left in his hands. The lawyer came to 
her house on this occasion at her request, as 
she wished him to advise her as to the disposal 
of some of her land. She had just received an 
offer of quite a sum from a gentleman who was 
about to erect a summer residence near her, and 
wished to obtain a portion of her estate to 
straighten his line. It being a matter that re- 
quired the personal attendance of the attorney, 
he ha.d reluctantly consented to be present. 

The business having been satisfactorily set- 
tled, and he having enjoyed one of the widow’s 
“ company suppers,” he was now ready to re- 
turn to New York, and only waited for the train 
that would be due in the course of an hour. 
The relations between himself and Mrs. Brown 
had ever been those of counsel and client, and 
no common-place conversation had occurred in 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


223 


her visits to his office. It had never suggested 
itself to him to inquire concerning her health or 
her welfare, and she, simple soul that she was, 
had a dread of lawyers, and did not dare to 
speak of anything but the business she had in 
hand, and on that endeavored to be as brief as 
possible. 

It was not surprising that now, when there 
seemed nothing to do but to talk, Mrs. Brown 
did not know just how she should ententain this 
great man. Largur, on his part, was prone to 
allow his mind to wander away from his present 
surroundings to an intricate law case that had 
for the last few days occupied most of his time 
and thought. He had completed his duty to 
his client Brown ; and that being off his mind, 
he began to consider his duty to his client 
White. Though he did not wish to be discour- 
teous to his hostess, he prided himself on being, 
not a society man, but a lawyer, believing that 
the two could not harmonize. 

Good Mrs. Brown had tried the weather sub- 
ject, and his monosyllabic answers had rather 
disconcerted her ; here was almost an hour dur- 
ing which she must try to entertain her guest ; 
how could she do it? was the question that agi- 
tated her breast. Since supper she had got him 


224 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


to converse about the sale of the land ; but after 
expressing his views on that matter as far as he 
considered necessary, he again lapsed into short 
replies to her questions, and thus frightened 
her. 

There was one subject ever dear to her char- 
itable heart, and that was the sufferings and 
hardships of the destitute people in the great 
metropolis. She had seen something of it in 
the few p^ears she had lived in New York, and 
had read much since leaving there. Had she 
been of a less timid nature, she would have 
made herself a missionary whenever she went 
to the city, but her visits there were few and 
short, and she had a certain fear of going among 
the poor, having instinctively connected in her 
own mind poverty with crime. Now, perhaps, 
she could gain some information from this law- 
yer, who she thought must be acquainted, by 
virtue of his profession, with all the details. 
“ Of course,” she reasoned, “ as he is a lawyer, 
he must sometimes have to defend these poor 
wicked people.” So it was with considerable 
assurance that she said : 

I suppose. Lawyer Largur, that you see 
much that is sad in the lives of the poor around 
you ?” 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 225 

'' I beg pardon,” he replied ; “ I did not catch 
your last remark.” 

She repeated the question, adding, ''and it 
must touch your heart.” 

"Well, yes; I do. It does,” responded the 
attorney. Had it been a question pertaining to 
a professional commission or omission he would 
have given close attention, but when he found 
it was not, he allowed his mind to go back to 
the case of " White v. Grant.” ^ 

Largur was a bachelor ; and having early in 
life taken a dislike to women, it had now grown 
into indifference. He did not consider them 
worthy of much thought, though he esteemed 
it eminently proper that, if they had any legal 
business, they should come to him, and that in 
so doing they gave proof that they were not 
entirely destitute of common sense. 

The widow hazarded another question, " Do 
you think the city authorities do all they can to 
relieve distress ?” 

" I should think that might be done,” he an- 
swered, but half hearing what she said. 

This was not just the answer she had ex- 
pected. "But perhaps I did not understand 
him,” she thought ; " I will try him again, for he 
must know something of this,” so she said aloud : 


226 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


“ I have sometimes thought that the churches 
did not take the interest they ought in this 
matter.” 

I have thought of that,” he said. This time 
she felt sure that she had not misunderstood 
him, and his answer showed that he had con- 
sidered the subject. She was all right now, for 
she could entertain him, and at the same time 
gain some information for herself. 

“ Don**t you think, Mr. Largur, that if the 
churches should appoint a committee to look 
up destitute people, it would be a step in the 
right direction?” 

Hearing the words, “appoint a committee,” 
and at the same time busily thinking of his cli- 
ent’^s case, Largur said — 

“ No, I don’t think it would be best to refer 
the matter to arbitration. Let it come before a 
good jury, and we are safe.” 

This was somewhat of a poser; but the 
widow, after a moment’s thought, tried again, 
thinking that in answering her question he used 
a legal metaphor and, wishing to show him that 
she was not unable to comprehend even profes- 
sional phrases, she remarked — 

“ Yes, perhaps it would be better to have the 
matter brought before a jury, instead of a 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 22 / 

committee, and the minister could select the 
jury.” 

“ No, we could not select a jury ; but if there 
was any man on it whom we did not wish, we 
could challenge him,” said the lawyer, imagin- 
ing that in some way he was talking with her 
about the case he had in mind. 

The poor woman had always associated chal- 
lenges with duelling, and duelling with killing, 
and it was incomprehensible to her why there 
should be any objection to a man on a com- 
mittee for so laudable a purpose ; but why that 
man should be killed, or kill some one else, just 
because he had been so appointed, was start- 
lingly inconceivable. Considering this, her 
next question was but natural. 

“ But why is there any need of killing any 
one?” 

“ Killing!” he exclaimed, “ who says anything 
about killing?” 

Why,” hesitated she, beginning to fear that 
she had made a mistake, “ why, you said that if 
there was any objection, they could be chal 
lenged, and if they were challenged wouldn’t 
some one be killed ?” 

The lawyer saw that in some way his absent- 
mindedness had led him to make a statement 


228 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


foreign to the pupose of her talk. He tried 
to think what it was all about, but could not, 
unless, as he supposed, she had been conversing 
with him upon cases before the court. He in 
turn ventured a question. 

In what connection did you understand me 
to use the word ^ challenge ’ ?” 

“ Why, when I asked you if you did not think 
a committee ought to be appointed by the 
churches to look after the poor, you said it 
would be better to have it brought before a 
jury, and when I suggested that the minister 
could appoint the jury, you said that could not 
be done, but if we did not wish any man, he 
could be challenged.” 

Ah, yes! Yes, the idea which I intended to 
convey was this : that if there were any man on 
this committee that was to act as a jury, and 
any one knew any cause why he would not be 
a suitable person, on account of not having 
time, or perhaps inclination, for the work, that 
one could challenge him, that is to say, could 
state the reasons why some other person would 
be more proper.” 

“ Oh, yes, I understand now. How dull of me 
not to see your meaning before ! And you tell me 
you have given this subject your consideration?” 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


229 


“ Well, to some extent,” he replied, inwardly 
condemning himself for not paying more atten- 
tion to what his hostess was saying, and won- 
dering what other misrepresentation of him- 
self he had made. Concluding that he had 
better spend the rest of the interval before the 
arrival of the train, at the railway station, he 
arose, and looking at his watch, said — 

“d think I will go now. My train will soon 
be due, and I do not wish to lose it.” 

It is not far to the station,” remarked Mrs. 
Brown, ‘‘and you have half an hour nearly 
yet.” 

“Yes, but I think I will start now.” 

“ I am sorry you don’t feel like stopping 
longer — I was so much interested in learning 
your views as to the duties of the churches 
towards the poor. If you will excuse me, I will 
get your hat and gloves,” and the widow left 
the room. 

She was gone longer than he expected, and 
the attorney began for the first time to look 
about him. ‘As he did so, his eye fell upon 
Carrie ; and though his taste with regard to the 
looks of the opposite sex had suffered from 
neglect, the sweet, innocent face of the young 
girl touched a chord in his heart that had not 


230 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


vibrated for years, and his mind went instantly 
back to his youthful days, when he had known 
just such another — known and loved ; but now 
he bitterly recalled the ending of that romance. 
He was still watching the animated face of the 
daughter, who was so absorbed in her castle- 
building that she was unconscious of his scru- 
tiny, when the mother returned, saying — 

“ I do not find one of your gloves„ Mr. Lar- 
gur. You have not seen it, have you, Carrie?” 

“ No, mother, I have not,” replied the girl, 
rousing herself and rising to assist in the search. 

“It is very strange, what I could have done 
with it,” speaking half to herself. 

Remembering that when he entered, Mrs. 
Brown had laid both his gloves and his hat 
upon the table, Largur turned to look in that 
direction, and saw the missing article. 

“ Oh, here it is,” he exclaimed, and stepped 
to the table to take it. As he did so, a photo- 
graph, placed upon a miniature easel, attracted 
his attention, and he picked it up, saying, 
“ I was not aware that you were acquainted 
with—” 

He did not finish, for the deep flush which 
rose to the cheek of the younger woman, and 
the proud motherly look that came into the 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 23 1 

eyes of the older one, made him hesitate, a lit- 
tle surprised. 

Mrs. Brown asked hastily: 

“Oh, you know Mr. True, then?” 

“ Mr. — True,” Largur slowly repeated. “ Did 
I understand you aright?” 

“ Yes, Edward True. He is a very dear 
friend of ours f I might add, more than a friend,” 
glancing at Carrie, who dropped her eyes 
while the telltale color deepened in her cheek. 

The shrewd lawyer was nonplussed, yet 
there must some mistake. 

“ Does the gentleman reside here with you ?” 
he inquired. 

“ No, not yet, although he is here quite often, 
and may take up his residence with us, for I 
cannot for a moment think of parting with my 
only child. He lives in New York: perhaps 
you know him ?” 

“ I may have met him. What is his occupa- 
tion ?” 

“ Oh, he works for some man whose name, if 
he has ever told it, I have forgotten, that has a 
factory or shop of some kind, I don’t know just 
what, but he is the truest, noblest man that 
lives. We have been expecting him here for 
nearly a week. I wish he had got here before 


232 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


you took your departure. I should so like to 
have had you see him. We are very proud of 
him.’’ 

'' I wish I might have met him. Well, I must 
bid you both good night,” he said, laying 
down the picture he had been studying so care- 
fully, and moving towards the door. 

“ Good evening, sir,” came to his ear in mu- 
sical tones, as Carrie made a pretty courtsey. 

“ Good evening, and a pleasant journey,” was 
the widow’s response to his good night, as he 
stepped from the door. 

*‘It is strange — strange,” the attorney said to 
himself, ‘‘I would have sworn that was his pic- 
ture. There cannot be another man in New 
York who resembles him so closely. This is 
not a case of mistaken identity. I will swear it 
is he ; but what does it all mean? What can he 
be up to?” 

Largur was so aborbed in his own thoughts, 
that he did not notice a person approaching 
him from an opposite direction, until he was 
suddenly brought to himself by running fairly 
against the new-comer. 

I beg your pardon !” he exclaimed, looking 
up, and then added, in some surprise, Why, is 
this you ?” 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


233 


“ It is certainly I/' replied the man, who was 
no other than Edward True; “but I have not 
the pleasure of your acquaintance, I believe.” 

“ Oh, I again beg pardon !” ejaculated the 
lawyer, as he passed on, to resume his inters 
rupted meditations, to which a new interest had 
been added. “ Well, that is cool ! D — n his 
impudence ! Hasn’t the pleasure of my ac- 
quaintance ! Don’t want me to know what he 
is doing. Well, young men will be young men, 
though I have never looked upon him as like 
others of his age. I will say nothing about this 
when next we meet, unless he first mentions the 
subject. It is none of my business, but I knew 
I was not mistaken about that photograph,” and 
thus musing he soon reached the station. 

Edward in the meantime was also thinking 
about the meeting, and wondering who the old 
gentleman could be. “ He acted as if he knew 
me, and even stretched out his hand to grasp 
mine ; perhaps I did wrong in not taking his 
hand ; I am sorry now that I did not, but I 
knew he was mistaken, and I was in such a hurry 
to reach Mrs. Brown’s, and see my darling, that 
I did not stop and explain as I ought to have 
done. Who can it be? His face had a familiar 
look, and must have come to me in some of my 


234 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


strange dreams. Well, never mind, here I am,” 
and the young man ran up the walk leading to 
the house. 

The greeting between the lovers was such as 
can only occur when two fond hearts have been 
long separated. 

See what I have brought you, darling,” said 
Edward, as he slipped a ring upon the finger of 
the blushing girl. 

Oh, how pretty !” she exclaimed, as she held 
up to her mother’s view the ring, set with 
pearls and diamonds. And is this my — 
my — ” 

“ Engagement ring,” supplied Edward. 

“ I shall always hold it very dear, for your 
sake, Edward. The diamonds look like stars 
around the cross, don’t they ?” 

“Yes,” replied Edward, “but the wearer of 
the ring is my star.” 

“ Then they must belong to you, too.” 

“I came near losing the ring,” said the young 
man, for, as I was hurrying along with my hand 
upon it and thinking more of you than of where 
I was, I ran into an old man, and nearly threw 
him off his feet. At the same time, the ring 
almost slipped from my hand, and — ” 

“ Why, that must have been lawyer Largur ; 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 235 

he left the house only a short time before you 
came,” interrupted Mrs. Brown. 

“ Lawyer Largur, Lawyer Largur,” Edward 
repeated, and looked as if he were trying to 
connect the name with some event. 

I thought I had heard the name before, but 
I must be mistaken.” 

“ I should think it quite likely that you have,” 
said Mrs. Brown. “ He is a great lawyer in 
New York.” 

“Oh, perhaps, that may account for it,” but 
it was some time before the bewildered look 
passed ont of the young man’s face. 

“ How long will your business permit you to 
stop with us this time ?” asked the widow. 

“Until I can wear this flower upon my 
bosom,” was Edward’s -reply, as he placed his 
arm around Carrie’s slender waist, and drew 
her to his side. 

“ Have you got everything ready ?” he con- 
tinued, bending down, and lifting up her face 
that he might look into her eyes. 

She nestled her head on his shoulder, but 
made no reply. 

“ Let it be the day after to-morrow, then,” he 
said, raising the head again, and kissing the red 
lips. 


CHAPTER XXL 


OTARR CROSS had, after years of persever- 
^ ance, succeeded in transmitting upon a 
blank surface what his subjects saw when in a 
mesmeric or trance state. Whatever impressed 
itself upon the mind of the clairvo3^ant, while 
dressed in the apparatus he had made for the 
purpose, pictured itself on the screen, and he 
could see reflected just what was occurring as 
beheld by the subject. 

-The problem he had thereby solved was one 
of the few which his father had left unfinished. 

In the beginning he felt assured of the foun- 
dation upon which to commence the experiment. 
There were certain facts so well settled in his 
own mind that they admitted of no doubt. 

He knew that there were those who were 
responsive to his will, and who had the power 
to see things distant as well as those near at 
hand, and that they were able to do this with- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


237 


out the use of their eyes ; that, in fact, the eyes 
had little or nothing to do with thisx power, and 
yet the seat of vision was in some way con- 
nected with the head, for in one case he had 
found it on the back of the head, in another 
case on the side near the organ called alimen- 
tiveness ; this he had demonstrated by handing 
to the clairvoyant a letter enclosed in an envel- 
ope and observing where he held it to read the 
contents. 

He learned from the statements left by his 
father that the Professor had assumed that the 
dice or mirror which was to receive the im 
pression made on the clairvoyant’s brain should 
be constructed after the plan of the human eye, 
making an artificial cornea, iris, and retina, and 
focusing by a lens in the style of a photograph 
camera lens ; then by a system of electric 
wires, acting in the nature of nerves attached to 
the clairvoyant’s head, covering the eyes, and 
connecting with a mechanical arrangement 
called a receiver, he hoped to accomplish the 
desired effect. The father had explained his 
want of success by the assumption that the eye 
could receive impressions without there neces- 
sarily being any light. The son took an en- 
tirely new departure, and worked upon the hy- 


238 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


pothesis that the rays of light should be reflected 
upon the receiver ; that the eyes of the clairvoy- 
ant would be of little if any assistance. In other 
words, his subjects did not see by their eyes, 
but by some other and unknown means. He 
used the battery and electric wires that his 
father had employed, but increased their num- 
ber. He caused to be made a skeleton helmet 
covering and pressing the sides and back of the 
head, with two arms extending down and hiding 
the eyes. Through this helmet were inserted 
a multiplicity of electric wires, all of which 
touched the head, but no two at the same point ; 
each wire was connected by a small metallic 
box hermetically sealed, to a small but very 
powerful square lens. These lenses were placed 
in such a position that together they formed a 
surface of some six feet square. Just in front of 
the lenses was a bell-shaped tunnel, perhaps 
eight feet wide at the end opposite the lenses, 
and tapering to a tube of six or eight inches ; 
the interior of this tunnel was a bright polished 
surface. The small end of the tunnel was in- 
serted into an arrangement resembling the 
magic lantern used in the photo-sculpture art ; 
and whatever the clairvoyant saw was repro- 
duced on a black screen, but in a reversed order. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


239 


To remedy this he placed a mirror in such a 
position that it reflected everything from the 
screen. By the use of other wires attached to 
the numerous lenses and metallic boxes, he suc- 
ceeded in throwing into and through the tunnel 
small electric rays of light ; these were concen- 
trated by the bell-shaped tunnel, focused by 
the camera, and thrown upon the screen. 

******* 

It was evening. Starr was sitting in the 
room which contained these mechanical appara- 
tus, apparently waiting for some one. Pres- 
ently Br^te entered, and Starr, without rising, 
motioned her to be seated. This she did, and 
folding her hands in her lap, awaited the pleas- 
ure of her master, who sat with a scowl upon 
his forehead, and impatiently tapping, with his 
foot, the ottoman in front of him. Hearing 
Brete draw a long breath, he aroused himself 
and soliloquized — 

“ I don’t understand what the trouble is with 
me lately. I don’t feel well ; the slightest 
thing annoys me. It can’t be from want of 
sleep, for the fates know I have enough of that. 
By the way, I wonder if that is not the reason 
of this unnatural feeling, for it is only since I 


240 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


began to sleep so much that I have felt it. 
Perhaps Brete will amuse me; she usually 
does.” 

He rose and crossed the room to where she 
sat; and making a few passes, said, “ Are you 
ready to go ?” 

“ I can see,” she replied. Whereupon he took 
up the helmet which we have described, and 
placing it upon her head pressed it firmly, and 
said — 

“You are in the street.” 

He then went to a knob at the door of the 
room and pressed it, causing the light that had 
filled the apartment to gradually diminish till it 
was entirely gone ; then he turned on the electric 
light connected with the boxes and lenses, and 
there appeared upon the screen, from these re- 
flected upon the mirror, a view that looked as if 
it were reflected directly from the street itself. 
Yet there was a certain vagueness about it that 
is often seen in an imperfect looking-glass. This 
Starr corrected by focusing from the tube at the 
end of the bell-shaped tunnel. Now the street 
was, as a whole, more sharply defined than we 
are accustomed to see in a reflected view, though 
here and there appeared little imperfections that 
somewhat marred the otherwivSe sharp outline, 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


241 


He overcame these by slightly changing the 
lenses attached to the metallic boxes, and he 
then had presented before him a most perfect 
representation of the street as seen by Brete. 

The people, who appeared but little dimin- 
ished from their ordinary size, could be seen 
moving back and forth, jostling each other, 
crossing the street, dodging the teams, and act- 
ing as do only the inhabitants of a large city. 
The whole scene would not have looked more 
real had he viewed the street itself. 

'' You may go to the theatre,” said Starr, and 
the view commenced the changes that would 
naturally follow if one were walking along rap- 
idly. Starr placed himself comfortably in an 
easy-chair in front of the mirror, and watched. 
Soon appeared the large lights in front of the 
building occupied by Booth’s Theatre. 

“ No, not there,” commanded Starr, and the 
view remained stationary as Brete asked. 
Where ?” 

Oh, to any other. We were there night be- 
fore last.” Then the shifting of the scene re- 
commenced as the clairvoyant moved away, and 
soon passed into the Fifth Avenue Theatre. 
The changes showed 'themselves upon the mir- 
ror, until the view became still, and Starr saw 


242 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


before him the stage of the house upon which 
the curtain had just arisen. No better view 
could be had of the stage and the performance 
from any seat in the house. 

“ You may tell me what you hear them say/' 
and Brete began and repeated, word for word, 
the conversation of the actors. It was not diffi- 
cult for Starr to understand and follow the play, 
even though it was the same voice that repeated 
the words of the different players. At the end 
of the first act, Starr said, “ I don’t care to re- 
main longer, as I can’t hear the orchestra ; but 
it shall not be long before my new arrangement 
will be completed and I shall not be confined to 
your imitation, but I shall hear what you hear 
as I now see what you see.” 

Brete made no reply, and only by the change 
that appeared on the mirror could it be told 
that she had heard what he said. 

As she arrived on the sidewalk and began to 
move away from the building, two figures, walk- 
ing along in the same direction, appeared to 
attract Starr’s attention. One of these was an 
elderly man, the other was a young girl lean- 
ing on his arm. What it was about them that 
attracted Starr could not be told, unless it was 
the symmetrical figure of the girl 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


243 


“ Do yoii see that young woman just in front 
of you?” he asked Brete. 

“ Which one ?” 

Why,” he responded, “ the one leaning on 
the arm of the old man.” 

“ Yes,” she replied. 

“ Go in front of them, so that I may see their 
faces.” 

She did so, and before him, the sweet face of 
the girl was shown. 

‘‘ Yes,” Starr said, half audibly. “ She would 
make one of the best subjects. I believe she 
would far surpass Brete as a clairvoyant. I 
would like to try the experiment.” 

He stopped and meditated, forgetful of his 
surroundings, but Brete was a most faithful 
servant. Her orders were to go in front of the 
couple, and she had done so ; and there she 
would remain until she received further direc- 
tions from the mind that so arbitrarily ruled 
her own. Now while the other people moved 
incessantly to and fro, the old man and maiden 
continued to be the central figure. 

“ I will do it,” exclaimed Starr, as he arose 
and touched an annunciator, “but the old man? 
— Oh, well, if he is in the way, he must be 
removed.” 


244 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


Just then Zeno appeared in the entrance, 
looking more healthy than of yore, for, singu- 
larly enough, Starr seldom mesmerized his 
father’s old servants, so that Zeno, since his 
awakening, had had, comparatively speaking, 
his own way. 

“ Where is Lappa?” asked Starr. 

“ He is now busy at his work, as you willed 
him,” replied Zeno. 

“True, I had forgotten about that, and it 
was day before yesterday I set him to work 
polishing the trumpet for the audiform. I 
should think it might be well done by this 
time. I ought not to have let the matter slip 
from my mind that way ; there is another indi- 
cation that I am not well. Never mind, I must 
have him.” 

Starr left the room, but soon returned with 
Lappa, and, glancing at the mirror, saw by the 
rapid changes, that the two over whom Br^te 
was keeping watch were moving along by 
some other power than their own. 

“ What now ?” he said, addressing Brete. 

“ In a coach,” she replied. 

“ Oh, I see,” and without further comment 
he turned to Lappa and said, “ There is a 
3^oung lady wLom I want you to bring to 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


245 


me. I will show her to you, and you must 
do as you have done before. If any one 
tries to interfere, use the ‘ sherlar.’ When 
you find her, she will follow you, but let no 
one else come with you. Do you distinctly 
understand what I wish 

“ I do,” Lappa replied. 

Then Starr sat and watched the flying 
scenes in the mirror until the coach stopped, 
and as it did so the view exhibited was the 
Erie Railroad station. 

“ Now you see her,” said Starr as he mo- 
tioned Lappa to look at the mirror. “ It is 
that girl standing by the old man who is 
now paying the driver.” 

“ I see,” responded the man. 

‘‘ And do you see where it is? 

“ Yes,” replied Lappa, “at the New York 
and Erie Railroad station.” 

“You will at once hasten and do my bid- 
ding, take a carriage and be as quick as you 
can. Have you money?” 

“ No.” 

“Then take this,” and he handed the man 
several bills, that he had taken from his pocket. 

The man took them and was gone. 

Starr sat down again in front of the mir- 


246 A DOUBLE LIFE. 

ror to watch and wait. The scene now was 
the ladies' room of the station, but the most 
prominent face there was that of the young 
girl. There was little to interest one in this 
most common of sights; and it would have 
been considered by Starr too monotonous to 
spend any time' over, had it not been for his 
desire to obtain possession of the fair maiden. 

Starr had been sitting for some time with 
his eyes half closed, when he aroused himself 
and asked, What are they talking about?” 

He is telling her that he will go and 
ascertain if the train is not ready for passen- 
gers,” replied Brete. 

“ Good !” exclaimed Starr, and just then as 
the old man arose to get the desired informa- 
tion, Lappa's form appeared upon the mirror, 
moving around among the passengers. It was 
now that the eyes of Starr contracted, and his 
whole expression showed how intensely he was 
exerting his will power. It was not without 
avail, for the girl moved uneasily for a minute 
or two, and then arose and commenced to 
follow the figure of Lappa. 

The mirror showed the two figure's moving 
from the waiting-room — out into the station — 
from the station to the street. At this stage 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 247 

of the proceedings, the form of the old man 
appeared hurrying toward the girl. He came 
up to her, he touched her arm. 

The expression upon Starr’s face became 
more intense. The maiden tried to disengage 
herself from the hand that the old man had 
placed upon her arm. It could be seen by • 
the movement of his lips, and the look upon 
his face that he was excited at the peculiar 
action of his young charge. Just here Lappa 
moved toward the old man, and as he did 
so it could be seen that he took something 
from the lining of his vest. It was small ; 
too small to be noticed. He stretched it towards 
the man, seeming to touch him lightly, and 
the old gentleman’s hold upon the girl re- 
laxed. He swayed a little, then pitched for- 
ward. Two or three who saw him ran to 
him, but were too late to save him from fall- 
ing. Had Starr asked what was said, the 
answer would have been : “ They say he has 
a fit. Now they say he is dead ; that it is 
a stroke of apoplexy.” But Starr did not 
care what they might say. He saw and knew 
just what the trouble was. 

The young girl took no notice of her pro- 
tector’s fall; but when Lappa again moved 


248 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


towards the carriage in waiting, she followed, 
and entered it with him. 

The next day there appeared in the morn- 
ing paper a short item mentioning the sudden 
death of an aged gentleman at one of the 
passenger stations. The afternoon papers, re- 
‘ ferring to the same, added that a niece who 
was with the unfortunate man had mysteri- 
ously disappeared. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

\ T 7IDOW BROWN’S quiet life had under- 

^ ^ gone but little change. The marriage 
of her daughter Carrie to Edward was without 
any ostentation. On the day of their union, 
the good pastor who had looked after the spir- 
itual interests of the family, since the time when 
Mrs. Brown took up her abode in his neighbor- 
hood, was present and officiated, and the young 
people assumed their new obligations without 
any other change than would naturally follow 
such an event. Edward remained with them a 
month or more without anything being said 
about his returning to the city. There never 
existed a purer, more unselfish affection than 
that which united these two people. Their 
love for each other did not exhibit itself so 
much in any open demonstration as it did in 
that subtle, thoughtful way that is so indicative 
of sincerity. 

They seemed anxious to be always in each 


250 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


other’s presence ; and when they had been sep- 
arated for a short time during the day, a proof 
of this fact was given by the animated light that 
came to the eyes of Edward when he caught 
sight of her, as well as by the nervous tremor 
of her hand when he took it in his. Their love, 
however, did not blind them to the duties they 
owed their mother, and she never had seen 
cause to regret that her only child had linked 
her fortune to that of Edward. 

The current of their lives moved smoothly 
along ; nothing had as yet intruded upon their 
quiet enjoyment. One morning, Edward in- 
formed them that he must return to his employ- 
ment in the city. 

Before, their marriage the separation of the 
lovers had only intensified their feelings for 
each other ; now the parting was more difficult, 
the time that they would be compelled to spend 
apart seemed longer, and the day for his return 
farther distant, but there was no doubt as to the 
pleasure with which they would meet again. 

Neither of the women knew Edward’s occu- 
pation further than his statement that he was 
employed by a man who devoted his life to 
science. They trusted implicitly in him, and 
did not show any curiosity. They lived for one 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


251 


another, and when they were all three together 
they did not trouble themselves with any mat- 
ters outside of the general subjects which be- 
longed to their daily lives. 

The first parting between the young wife and 
her husband was tearful, and Edward had to 
promise that he would return as soon as his bus- 
iness would permit him, and it should be the 
very next day if possible. 

But the next day did not bring him, nor many 
a day ; indeed it was three or four months be- 
fore they again saw him. They had become 
very anxious about him, and had done every- 
. thing they could to discover his whereabouts. 
They knew that it was not his free will that 
kept him away, and so were not surprised on 
his return to learn that he had been very sick. 
It was then he promised them that the next 
time he went away, he would write them on his 
arrival just where he should stop, for he said he 
did not always stay in the same place, and could 
not tell them before he reached the city. He 
promised his wife, too, that she should never 
have cause to chide him for not calling to his 
side the companion whose right and duty to be 
there were so clear. 

In the happiness of being reunited they soon 


252 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


forgot the sorrow that had temporarily shad- 
owed their life. Edward’s cup of happiness was 
full to the brim, and it is not surprising that tears 
of joy were in his eyes when, in the evening just 
before the light was brought in, Carrie came to 
him as he sat by the window looking out upon 
the fast-approaching night, and nestled in his 
arms trembling with the joyful news that she 
was about to communicate to her Edward. 

“ Why are you so excited, my darling?” asked 
her husband. 

“ I have something to tell you,” she replied, 
as she laid her head against his shoulder, and 
raised her childish hand to pat his cheek. 

Have something to tell me, my sweet little 
wife, and what is the confession she would make 
to her father confessor?” 

“Well, don’t look,” she said, burying her face 
still deeper in his coat. 

“ Don’t look ! Why my pet, it is growing 
so dark that I can’t see much, any way.” 

He raised the face, now warm with blushes, 
nearer to his own, that he might look into her 
eyes. His heart gave a deep, quick throb as it 
flashed across his mind what her secret might 
be, and he pressed her to him so hard that she 
gave a little cry of pain. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 253 

“ Oh, forgive me !” he said, “ I did not intend 
to hurt you.’’ 

“ I knew you didn’t ; but I am afraid I shall 
not have the joy of telling you my secret, for I 
think you have already guessed it,” and her 
head went back to its old place on his shoulder. 

“ But, my pet, you said you were going to 
make a confession and I want to hear it, and not 
have to trust to any guessing of mine, for I 
know that it was influenced by a longing that I 
cannot believe is to be realized.” 

“ Well I will tell you,” and placing her lips 
close to his ear, she whispered a few words; 
The light of a great joy came into his face, born 
of the assurance that his only remaining desire 
was to be fulfilled, and he lifted up his over- 
flowing eyes and said, I thank thee, O my 
Heavenly Father, for this new blessing thou 
hast given thy unworthy servant !” 

After this, while Edward’s attitude toward 
his wife was not more affectionate than before, 
for it could not be, yet he showed an eager so- 
licitude for her that was new. 

One morning, a few weeks after Edward’s ar- 
rival, Mrs. Brown did not appear at the usual 
time ; and after waiting as long as anxiety would 
permit, Carrie went to her mother’s room, and 


254 A DOUBLE LIFE. 

found her in an unconscious condition. A 
frightened cry brought Edward to her side, and 
the young people made every effort to restore 
her, and were soon much relieved to find that 
she was returning to consciousness. Mrs. Brown 
was still too ill to arise, and at the earnest so- 
licitations of the children, she consented to have 
a physician called, though she stipulated that it 
should be Dr. Ordway, and not either of the 
two young doctors that were located in the 
neighborhood. Edward hurried away to find 
the physician who lived something over a mile 
away. He was found at the country store, 
where he was making some purchases. Among 
them he had a small bottle of vinegar which the 
proprietor of the store had requested him to 
try, as it was of unusual strength. Dr. Ordway 
picked up the bottle of vinegar and put it in his 
pocket ; then, leaning one hand upon Edward’s 
shoulder, moved slowly toward his own house 
to prepare for visiting his patient. 

During the slow progress, the Doctor asked 
about the symptoms of the widow, and ex- 
pressed a belief that she only required some 
slight stimulant. He said he would take a bot- 
tle of some stimulating medicine with him. 

Dr. Ordway was onfe of the most peculiar of 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


255 


peculiar men. From the effect of some dis- 
order he had almost lost the use of his lower 
limbs ; and though he was able to go about, his 
movements were very tottering and very slow. 
There were those who said his mind was more 
affected than his body. Others hinted that his 
troubles were caused by the habitual use of 
opium ; but these people were not considered 
his friends, and consequently their opinions 
were to be taken “ cum grano salis.” Perhaps 
they took the most correct view of the matter 
who said that, since the loss of his daughter (a 
beautiful young girl who some years before 
had gone to New York, to reside with an un- 
cle and complete her musical education, and 
who had lately disappeared very strangely as 
she was on her way home), he was always 
thinking of her, and so was rather absent- 
minded with regard to everything else. There 
was no doubt that at times the Doctor’s mind 
worked as slowly as his body, while, at others, 
he surprised his hearers by an acuteness that 
would be remarkable in the strongest intellect. 
The older people in the vicinity had great faith 
in his power to relieve them, and so he had 
quite a large practice. There was, however, 
one thing that he was' never known to do 


256 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


quickly, and that was to talk; under no cir- 
cumstances was he ever heard to accelerate 
his remarks. No matter under what excite- 
ment he might be laboring, he always spoke 
in those slow, drawling tones that were so 
much in character with his movements. 

Once, when he was being driven to see a 
patient who resided at some distance from 
the Doctor’s home, he instructed his man, 
Lemuel, to drive very carefully over a bridge 
which they would be obliged to cross ; then he 
leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and 
waited for Lemuel’s tap on the window of the 
coupe in which he always rode. Going over 
the bridge, it turned out to be more unsound 
than was supposed and, when the old horse 
reach the centre, the planking gave way, and 
the animal went down into the little stream 
below. Fortunately the harness was an old 
one and easily broke from the carriage. As the 
reins slipped from the hands of the frightened 
driver and the carriage stopped, the Doctor 
aroused himself to ascertain the cause ; he 
reached forward and tapped on the window, 
but Lemuel was too bewildered at the sudden 
and unceremonious disappearance of the horse 
to hear his master. The latter then opened 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


257 


the window ^ and looked about him. Some 
understanding of the catastrophe seemed at 
last to dawn upon him, and he said, very 
slowly, and without the slightest appearance 
of excitement, “ Lem-u-el — where — is — the — 
horse ?” 

On arriving at Mrs. Brown’s, Edward and the 
physician went immediately to her room and 
found her much improved. The Doctor satis- 
fied himself that all she needed was quiet and 
a little tonic to restore her system to its cus- 
tomary condition. He left, as he supposed, the 
bottle of medicine that he had prepared for her, 
with these directions. “Now — you — take — 
three — teaspoonfuls — No, — stop ; three — table- 
spoonfuls — three — times — a day ; no, — not — that, 
— you — take — one — tablespoonful — three — times 
— a day, — and — you — had — better — take — one — 
of them — now.” Bidding her good morning, 
he commenced his slow march to the door 
and his carriage, feeling that he had done his 
whole duty and clearly explained how to take 
the medicine. When he reached the garden, 
he found his man, Lemuel, so absorbed in inves- 
tigating the reason why a cat on the other side 
of the road disputed the right of way with a 
small dog, as to be unconscious that his master 


258 A DOUBLE LIFE. 

had appeared, and was coming down the path 
unaided. Just then a large dog, owned by Mrs. 
Brown, came to the door in that dignified way 
that so becomes a dog who feels the care of his 
owner’s property. Seeing that the visitor was 
moving towards the highway, and did not ap- 
pear to be trying to steal anything, he looked 
in the direction of the Doctor’s carriage, and, 
spying the hostilities going on across the way, 
concluded that he had better go over and look 
after the interests of his fellow canine. So he 
started and, forgetful of the Doctor’s infirmity 
or else wishing to save time, he ran between 
the old man’s legs and upset him. Dr. Ordway 
with much difficulty regained his feet, and Avith 
a half-grieved, half-indignant look in his face, 
drawled out, “ What — possessed — that— dog — 
to — run — bet ween — my — legs. There — cer- 
tainly — was — room — enough — either — side.” 

He was here interrupted by Edward, who 
came to ask him if there were not some mis- 
take in the medicine he had left. The Doctor 
took a swallow of it, and was nearly strangled. 
He had left the vinegar instead of the tonic, but 
the fact of his putting the vinegar in his pocket 
had entirely passed from his mind. After he 
had recovered his breath enough to be able to 


A DOUBLE L^E. 


259 


speak, he said : What — can — this — mean ? It 
— has — not — been — warm — enough — to — have 
— soured — it — j ust — comi ng — fro m — home. ’ ’ 
Have you not made a mistake,” asked Ed- 
ward, “ and given us the vinegar you got at the 
store?” 

‘‘Why,” he said, as he slowly reached his 
hand round to his coat-pocket, “ That— might 
— be. Oh, — here — it — is — to — be — sure. I — 
knew — that — could — not — have — soured.” He 
handed the bottle containing the tonic to Ed- 
ward, who started to return to the house. 

“ Stay,” said the Doctor,, a new thought 
entering his head. “ The — directions — I — gave 
you — were — for — the — bottle — of — medicine — 
you — hold — in — your — hand — and — not — for — 
the — vinegar. I — don’t — think — Mrs. — Brown 
— needs — any — vinegar,” and the physician 
moved slowly toward his carriage, well satis- 
fied that he had made everything all right. 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


OTARR CROSS anxiously watched the re- 
suits of his experiments on the criminal he 
had caused to exhibit life. Each time he saw the 
man, he left feeling dissatisfied with the slow- 
ness with which body and mind responded to 
the new tests that had been applied. He had 
not confined his study of what constitutes life 
to this subject alone, but had carried it to the 
lower animals. He had discovered that he 
could store electricity, and had succeeded in 
bringing fish and frogs back to life, by opening 
them and placing near the valves of the heart 
small reservoirs of electricity. By this means 
the animals continued to live and thrive long 
after the artificial electricity must have ex- 
hausted itself. In this he had not accomplished 
any more than he had already done, in causing 
to exist the man upon whom he first experi- 
mented; yet these trials led him to apply a com 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


261 


densed positive electric reservoir to the sensor 
nerves of the man, restoring the feeling to the ex- 
tent that he could sense pain or pleasure as read- 
ily as others. Here Starr felt that he had taken 
a long stride toward the object he had in view. 
Then he applied a negative electricity to the seat 
of the muscular substances, and strength and 
energy of life returned, and the man stood be- 
fore Starr physically as strong and able as ever ; 
still he lacked consciousness; lacked control 
and power over the voluntary movements of 
the body ; lacked that regulation of the brain 
which is so absolutely indispensable to life. 

A sharp-pointed instrument thrust into his 
flesh would cause pain, and the sensor nerves 
would telegraph the sensation to the brain, but 
the brain was destitute of the reasoning power 
that alone could make it capable of intelligent 
action, and the result was that, while the motor 
nerves carried a volition to the muscles, it was 
a very unsatisfactory demonstration of the 
working of the brain. 

If the man was burned in the arm, he was 
more likely to move his leg or head than the 
injured part. If he was pricked in the body, it 
sometimes occurred that minutes passed before 
the motor nerves responded, and he was quite as 


262 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


likely to move a limb as his body. He could 
scowl or smile, but was as apt to smile, when he 
was kicking his foot because he felt the pain of 
a pin in his shoulder, as to scowl. 

It was obvious that the mind and body had not 
reunited since their separation ; and until this 
union could be effected, the man lived, but 
without a mind, without a will, without all 
that the word soul conveys. 

What about instinct, it may be asked ? What 
is instinct ? When does instinctive action cease 
and action from reason commence? These are 
mooted questions that never ha^e been satisfac- 
torily answered. Is it at all improbable that 
the reasoning powers may be inherited ? If so, 
might they not be called instincts ? Is not in- 
stinct but a name for a lower grade of intellect 
and reasoning faculty? Is reason anything 
more than the education, the evolution of 
instinct ? Our feet are stepped upon ; we in- 
stinctively move them. A particle of dust 
comes towards our eyes ; we quickly shut 
them. This is called instinct. But apply any- 
thing to the body that creates a new and 
strange feeling and leaves it doubtful whether 
the sensation is one of pain or pleasure ; it will 
be some time before the mind settles the ques- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


263 


tion, and until it passes its judgment, there will 
be no action of the motor nerves. This, the 
metaphysician would call reason. Now let that 
same novel feeling be experienced each day, 
and the time will come when the action of the 
motor nerves will be as prompt as in the case of 
the eyes or feet. The same metaphysicians will 
tell you this is instinct. If you find an animal 
incapable of learning, you find one void of 
instinct. 

Thus, while there existed a certain sympathy 
between the different members of his body, the 
resurrected man could be taught nothing, for 
he had neither reason nor instinct. 

The result of all Starr’s labor was but a great 
disappointment. He could not shut his eyes to 
the fact that, even though he succeeded in restor- 
ing his father’s body to life, he would not have 
that father with him. It was not the Professor’s 
form moving around him that he wanted. It 
was his father’s mind,’ his father’s soul, that he 
would recover. 

Starr was not without the failing, so common 
to mankind, of attributing a want of success to 
other reasons than the right ones, if the actual 
causes of the failure could not be remedied. 
So he from time to time invented excuses. He 


264 A DOUBLE LIFE. 

said, “ The man was probably always a fool.” 
Again it occurred to him that there might be 
some organic fault in the brain of the criminal, 
some disarrangement of the parts. 

Since his last application he had noticed a 
marked change in his subject. The man’s eyes 
had become sunken, his skin sickly in hue. He 
slept less, and, when slumber did fall upon him, 
it was of the most disturbed character. This 
change had been gradual, yet in time it became 
sufficiently noticeable to convince Starr that it 
would not be long before the man, now living 
without a soul, would die a second death. 
Starr took this into consideration, reasoning 
that the rapid decline of the man’s health was 
one of the causes why he was unable to exert 
his mental faculties. 

The result of all this, joined with the fact that 
he had carefully looked after his father’s body 
with the sole purpose in view of restoring it to 
life, was that we find him now before that 
parent’s lifeless form, upon which he had been 
at work for nearly twenty-four hours without 
sleeping or resting. The only nourishment he 
took was the sipping now and then of some wine, 
in which he had dissolved a little of his concen- 
trated nutriment, and which stood on a table 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


265 

near him. He found where the rupture which 
was the cause of death had occurred, and after 
considerable labor had repaired it. 

He succeeded in restoring the systolic 
motion of the heart and the respiratory action 
of the lungs. Before doing this he had placed 
in position in and about the Professor’s body, 
all the apparatus that in any way had acted 
beneficially in promoting the end in view, 
when applied to the body of the criminal. 
He had worked very carefully in all his under- 
takings. He could not have taken more in- 
terest, or exhibited more anxiety, had he been 
working to retain his own life. It told on him 
fearfully ; he looked nervous and feverish. He 
had entered upon this work with the full power 
of his mind ; and as he now stood before the 
living, breathing form of his father, the light 
shone upon a man who would have looked no 
older, had every hour that he had been engaged 
in this labor been a year. 

Everything else was to him as nothing in 
comparison to this ; excepting towards his 
father he had never in his life exhibited any 
emotion akin to love, but for his father and the 
memory of that father his affection was as 
strong as only a nature like his can conceive of. 


266 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


With a feeling of as much indifference as he 
showed when he ordered a mesiperic subject 
to remove the dead lamb from which he 
pumped the blood into his father’s veins after 
removing the embalming fluid, did he order 
him to take away the dead body of another 
subject from which he had taken blood to inject 
into his father’s veins in place of that they 
already contained. Be it said, however, that 
it was not his intention to sacrifice a life in the 
manner he did. His purpose was to take only 
such an amount as he could draw from the man 
with safety ; but in watching the effect upon his 
father, he had entirely overlooked everything 
else. Yet the fact, that in so doing he had 
taken another life, seemed to be of little 
moment to him. . 

There was every indication of life in the 
body of the Professor, who was now sitting 
upon the bench where he had before been 
lying, with his back against the wall. His eyes 
were open, and now and then the lids closed 
with a motion so natural that there could be 
little doubt as to the success of Starr’s efforts. 
The breath came easily and slowly ; the pulse 
slightly quickened yet not unnatural ; there was 
perhaps a little more color than was usual in 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


267 


the face of Professor Barlow. With the ex- 
ception of the slight twitching of the nerves 
that now and then could be noticed, Starr’s 
father sat before him with as healthy and 
natural an expression as he had ever borne. 

Starr ordered his assistants from the room. 
Why he did so cannot be explained, except 
upon the ground that his mind was so strongly 
centred upon the matter in hand, that he 
forgot that they saw nothing except as he 
willed them. 

Up to this time Starr had refrained from 
saying a word to the Professor; he did not 
wish to unduly hasten putting the last great 
test of whether or not his father had been 
restored to him. He now took the hand that 
lay warm and beating with life upon the bench 
and spoke the one word, “ Father.” 

No answer was returned, and a shade of dis- 
appointment passed over the face of the 
speaker. He spoke again, but received no 
reply. He drew his hand over the now warm 
forehead of the Professor for a short time, and 
then said, “ Don’t you hear me, my father?” 

The light of joy came to Starr’s eyes as he 
saw the muscles about the mouth work a little. 
He waited, and the lips parted, and the tongue 


268 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


moved, and Starr saw or imagined an expres- 
sion about the whole face indicative of a desire 
to enunciate something. It was without suc- 
cess, yet was encouraging. Starr asked an- 
other question — 

“ Do you not live, father?” 

Again the lips trembled and parted, and there 
came to the ear of the son a voice : there came 
an answer to his question in these words, 
slowly uttered — 

“ I do live, but not in this body.” 

Starr gazed for a moment at the face of his 
father, then said, in a voice trembling with 
emotion — 

“Can you not?” and in response came the 
one word, “ No.” 

It was too much for the overstrung nerves 
of the son ; the disappointment was too sudden, 
too great. There was a reaction of overtaxed 
nature, and Starr staggered to a chair and fell 
rather than sat down upon it. His body began 
to sway to and fro, and this motion continued 
uninterrupted for an hour. Gradually it grew 
less and a change apparently came over him. 
The haggard look of his face grew less distinct ; 
the eyes became milder; the lines about the 
mouth softened ; the hectic flush faded from 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


269 


the cheek, and the young man’s whole appear- 
ance became new and foreign. He looked 
about the room in a listless, indifferent way, as 
if wholly oblivious of his surroundings. He 
arose as if in answer to some one who had 
called him and, without a glance at his father’s 
body, without seeming to notice or care for 
anything about him, walked leisurely from the 


room. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 



HERE was great consternation at the 


home of Mrs. Brown, for Edward was 
very sick ; he appeared delirious on first enter- 
ing the house, complained of a headache, and 
talked strangely about himself. 

“ I don’t know what to make of this,” he 
would keep repeating as he pressed his hand to 
his forehead. “ I don’t feel as if I was myself ; 
there comes to me a strange, confused impres- 
sion that I am not at home.” 

Then they would see that puzzled expression, 
which had become so familiar, return, though 
now it was more intense, and his face remained 
clouded for a much longer time. The two 
women tried to persuade him to retire, but this 
he refused to do, saying, 

“ I shall feel better soon. What troubles me 
now is this feeling that my existence away from 
you is not real; it comes to me more like a 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


2; I 

dream of long ago, and in its place there appears 
to me with great vividness a life so void of all 
those sentiments which have attracted us toward 
each other, that it startles me; and yet this 
other creation returns to me, so positive, so 
genuine, and so forcible, that, for the time, I 
can’t recall any other.” 

As he spoke the disconcerted lodk would 
creep into his face. 

“ When here with you,” he continued, my 
life away has always seemed shadowy, yet this 
never caused me any uneasiness, for it never 
before took on this restless, discontented form. 
I fear that if this sensation continues I shall lose 
my self-control. It can’t be that my life away 
from you has been imaginary, and yet — and yet 
— it must have been, for am I not — Oh, my 
head ! my poor head ! What shall I do ? ” 

His illness was not deemed serious enough 
to necessitate calling a physician, but Mrs. 
Brown tried the simple remedies that she 
always kept at hand, and his wife did every- 
thing for his comfort that love and anxiety 
suggested ; yet his illness increased so rapidly 
that, before the morning dawned, a neighbor 
was despatched for Dr. Ordway, and it was 
with pale fages and frightened looks that the 


2J2 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


two women stood by his bedside and listened 
to his wild utterances. Tremblingly did the 
young wife bow her head on her mother’s 
breast and weep, when he in one of his par- 
oxysms cast her from him. “ What was to be 
done?” moaned the poor mother. 

Edward had complained of not feeling well 
on his last visit home, and as his wife attributed 
it to his close confinement to business, he had 
promised to give up his position and return to 
his family, if he did not regain his wonted 
health.. That was nearly two months ago, and 
since then they had received two or three 
letters from him, in none of which did he say 
anything regarding his health, 

At the last visit he had remained longer than 
at any other, for it was then that he bestowed 
his first fatherly kiss. No husband was ever 
more attentive than was he. No father ever 
received his first child with more unspeakable 
joy than did Edward, and no wife and mother 
ever had more positive proof of a husband’s 
and father’s love than did Carrie. The young 
people were never tired of gazing upon their 
offspring; they were constantly discovering 
new beauties in their infant daughter that 
could not possibly exist in any other baby. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


273 


Edward, for the three or four weeks he was 
deprived from being in the same room with his 
little daughter, arose three or four times each 
night to go and see how she was getting along. 
Undoubtedly the most enjoyable of all the 
happy hours that Edward and Carrie expe- 
rienced were those when, after the young 
mother was able to come out into the cosey 
sitting-room, she held her baby girl in her lap, 
and with Edward, Father Edward, close beside 
her, talked with him of the child’s future. 

Then came the naming of this atom of hu- 
manity. We cannot deny that names had been 
suggested, and talked over long before there 
was any call for one. If a boy, it was to be 
named for the minister who married them, and 
they both had promised to watch over it care- 
fully that it should, when it became a man, be 
as good a Christian as was the one whose name 
it had received ; but if a girl — and so far as 
their reverence would permit, they hoped it 
would be — they had considered and rejected 
many names before they had settled upon any ; 
it was, however, decided that if their Heavenly 
Father should give into their custody a daugh- 
ter to guard and love, she should be known as 
Effie May True. So it was that Baby True 


274 


A DOUBLE LIFE, 


came to the arms of her parents with a name 
ready and waiting for her, and was immediately 
upon her advent appointed Queen of the house- 
hold. 

No potentate ever had such sincere 'worship- 
pers as did she. Asleep or awake, some one 
was ever near her to obey her every wish, or 
every wish that as a good and loyal baby she 
ought to have. Mother True must hold her; 
Father True was anxious to receive her in his 
arms; and as for Grandmother Brown, she got 
so worked up on account of the few opportu- 
nities that presented themselves for her to get 
possession of her granddaughter, that she came 
the nearest she ever did in her life to using 
deception, by always saying to the young 
mother in answer to the oft-repeated question 
of “ Do you think, mother^ that Effie is feeling- 
just right?” “Well my daughter^ 1 hope so; 
let me take the little darling and see.” It 
always took Grandmother Brown a long time 
to decide the matter, and poor Carrie would 
stand nervously by, and wait with trepidation 
for the answer. 

Now, little Effie was three months old, and 
the family would have celebrated the event 
with great pomp but for the illness of the father. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


275 


This was Carrie’s first great trouble, and it 
came so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that she 
seemed bewildered, and when her husband, in 
his frantic visions, drove her from his side, it 
was with a fawn-like fear that she ran to her 
mother, from her mother to her baby that lay 
sleeping in its cradle. Edward, in his delirium, 
rose up in bed, and his insane stare frightened 
the two women still more. He shouted to 
them to be gone. He wanted to know what 
right they had in his house. Then he seemed 
to comprehend that he was not well, and 
would call upon imaginary people, giving them 
strange names ; after this he would turn over, 
moan and call for his wife and child, only to 
repulse them, and go over the same thing 
again. 

It was with somewhat lightened hearts that 
they heard the slow, dragging steps of Dr. 
Ordway, and the widow hastened to admit 
him. The Doctor came to the bedside and, 
after examining his patient, said, “ I — should — 
say — he — was — a — sick — man.” That the wife 
and her mother had settled long before his 
arrival, and so neither made any response. 

Just then one of Edward’s paroxysms came 
on, and the physician stood by and watched 


276 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


him calmly ; as he grew less excited and was 
about to lie back on his pillow, he roused him- 
self and made an effort to get up, saying he 
must go home. The Doctor pressed him 
gently back, and at the same time requested 
that the man in the carriage outside should be 
called in. The widow hurried away to sum- 
mon the servant, and Edward grew calmer and 
began to beg for his wife. She ran to him, and 
throwing her arms about him, tried to lift his 
head to her bosom as if he might find protec- 
tion there ; but when he saw her, he glared at 
her, and asked who she was and what she was 
trying to do. 

Then he became excited, and Dr. Ordway 
gently drew her away, and gave her over to 
Mrs. Brown, who just then re-entered the room, 
followed by the coachman. Again the wild 
ravings began, growing fiercer and fiercer till 
it required the united strength of the Doctor 
and his man to hold the patient in bed. 

When he was still enough to make it possible, 
morphine was injected into his arm ; but not 
until Dr. Ordway had repeated the remedy 
three times, did Edward become calm, and it 
was an hour before he closed his eyes to sleep. 
Yet the Doctor remained and watched him, 


J DOUBLE LIFE. 277 

murmuring once or twice, as Edward slept on, 
“ It — is — a — queer — case." 

At last he arose to depart; but at the earnest 
solicitation of the women, he consented to 
remain. It was evident that he was puzzled at 
the contradictory symptoms that he had seen 
in his patient, and did not need much urging to 
make him stay. He wrote a note, and sent it 
home by Lemuel, with instructions to return 
for him in three hours. Then he moved a 
chair near to the bed where the sick man was 
lying, and gave his whole attention to the study 
of the case before him. 

He would feel of Edward’s pulse, then of his 
head, and then shake his own head ; again he 
would touch the patient’s feet, then the hands, 
and again shake his head ; it was apparent that 
he had made some discovery that was not in ac- 
cord with the principles laid down in the books. 

The wife and the mother, finding that Ed- 
ward was quiet, and being told by the Doctor 
that he hoped it was not a serious case but 
that he would remain until the sick man should 
awake, and that they had better take some food, 
left the room, and went to their breakfast. It 
was anything but a relishable meal ; the food 
had a way of sticking in their throats and 


278 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


obliging them to make strong efforts before 
they could swallow it, so the meal was a brief 
one, and they soon arose from the table, and 
hurried back to the sick room, Carrie taking 
the child with her. 

There they all sat for nearly two hours be- 
fore Edward gave any sign of waking up. The 
first indication of his coming to himself was in 
his turning on his side and facing the wall. 
The Doctor leaned over, and seeing that his 
eyes were open nodded to Mrs. Brown and 
Carrie in indication of that fact. 

Carrie started to run toward the bed, but 
was waved back by the physician. Edward, 
after a time, turned so that he faced his watch- 
ers, and a look of surprise flashed into his face 
as he asked, “ Where am I?” 

“ Why, you are in your own room, at home, 
my dear husband,” exclaimed his wife, hasten- 
ing toward him. 

He motioned her back with the question, 
“ Who are you ?” 

I am Carrie, your wife,” she responded. 
‘‘ Wife! I have got no wife,” and he looked in- 
dignantly at the speaker. 

“Why, don’t you know baby?” She held 
out to him their little daughter. He did not 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


279 


look at the child, but catching sight of the ring 
upon her finger that he had given her as an 
engagement ring he exclaimed : 

“ Where did you get that ring ?” 

Why,” she replied, “ it is one that you gave 
me.” 

I gave you !” he repeated, “ I never gave 
you any ring. I never s 2 lw you before in my 
life. What does all this mean ?” 

“You — are — sick — sir,” explained the Doctor. 

“ I sick?” and Edward tried to rise from the 
bed, but fell back from weakness, and then 
closed his eyes, saying, “ This is incompre- 
hensible ; let me think.” 

As he lay there an expression of annoyance 
came into his face, followed by one of disap- 
pointment, and his color, which had before been 
almost white, became red as he grew tired and 
anxious. opened his eyes, and again glanc- 
ing around let his gaze rest upon Dr. Ordway, 
as he said : 

“ Will you, sir, be kind enough to explain 
how I happen to be here? Have I met with 
any accident ?” 

“ No — accident,” replied the Doctor. “ I — 
will — explain. You — see — when — ” 

“ Oh, stop !” fretfully exclaimed the sick man. 


280 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


and the Doctor looked surprised at the sudden 
interruption. “ It would take a week for you 
to explain it. Perhaps one of these ladies 
would give me the desired information.” 

‘‘ Why, my dear husband !” spoke his wife. 

“ Why, my dear son, Edward !” at the 
same time ejaculated Mrs. Brown, but he in- 
terrupted both with the remark, “ Oh, d — n your 
nonsense. Whom do you take me for? You 
will answer my questions,” and a glitter came to 
his eyes as he looked fixedly at the two women. 

Now answer,” he commanded, like one who 
knew he should be obeyed. 

A slight change came over Carrie, though 
she made no reply ; but the widow answered in 
the same tone as before, and a look of surprise 
showed itself in the sick man’s face. 

The physician here interposed, saying, “You 
— had — better — tell — him — as — if — he — didn’t — 
know. I — don’t — know — as — he — knows,” then 
leaned back in his chair, like a man who had 
long been trying to solve a difficult problem 
which he had at last given up in disgust. 

His patient gave Dr. Ordway a look of con- 
tempt, and motioned to the widow to proceed, 
which she did, fully persuaded that she was 
simply humoring the whim of a sick man. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


281 


As she progressed from the time of his first 
appearance under her roof down to the night 
before- when he had returned sick, he listened 
attentively and without any interruption until 
she had finished ; then he said, “ How long was 
I at your house the first time ?” 

She answered him, and he questioned her 
with regard to the dates of other visits and the 
time he had spent at her home. On her giving 
him the information, he said, as if speaking to 
himself, “The very times that I thought I was 
sleeping.’' 

His eyes wandered from the widow, to her 
daughter, and from the daughter to the babe 
in her arms. 

He made some further inquiries, and then 
said, “ I am not prepared to say what ought to 
be done under the circumstances. I doubt not 
you believe all that you have said, though I am 
not ready to accede to it. I would like to 
despatch a note to my lawyer, and have him 
come to me. Will you get the necessary ma- 
terials for me to do so?” 

The widow looked at the Doctor for his sanc- 
tion, and at his nod of approval left the room. 

The poor wife seemed to have lost all power 
of speech, and sat in a half stupor looking at 


282 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


her child. The sick man turned to Dr. Ord- 
way and said, “ Do you think I am able to be 
removed to New York ?” 

“You — are — very — weak — replied the phy- 
sician, “ and — I — think — it — would — be — apt — 
to — bring — on — a — relapse.” 

“ I believe I will take the risk.” 

When Mrs. Brown returned and handed him 
pen, ink and paper, he wrote with a trembling 
hand, a note which he addressed to James 
Largur, Esq., and handed it to her with the 
request that it be at once forwarded by a mes- 
senger. 

Again the poor woman looked to the Doctor 
for instructions, and again she saw him nod his 
consent to what she considered one of dear 
Edward’s insane whims. 

She was startled when she saw the name on 
the envelope, and said, “ Why I know Esquire 
Largur.” 

“ You do?” interrogated the sick man. 

“ Yes, and he will convince you, dear Ed- 
ward, that you are laboring under a delusion. 
It was he whom you ran against the evening 
you gave Carrie the ring, and you did not 
know him.” 

An incredulous smile came to the lips of the 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 283 

sick man, then he said, “May I ask your 
name?” 

“ My name !'’ she exclaimed, “ why,” then she 
checked herself and, feeling it her duty to still 
humor him, told her name. 

“Brown — Brown—?' I once knew a family 
of Browns who worked for my old guardian, 
named Hendon, a doctor — ” 

“Hendon! Why you are not — Can it be? 
Were you ever called ‘ Starr Cross ’ ?” 

“Yes,” he replied, “and that is my name 
now. I think you had a daughter.” 

“ Yes, I did, and there she is now.” 

He looked at Carrie for a moment, and then 
slowly said, “ Yes, I should think she might 
be,'^ but the longing, eager look of his wife met 
no response from his eyes. 

“You can’t be the strange boy I used to 
know as ‘ Starr Cross ’ ?” incredulously interro- 
gated Mrs. Brown. “ Why he used to frighten 
me with his queer ways, while you, my dear 
Edward, have always been so kind and gentle. 
Do try and go to sleep and you will feel better 
when you awake. 

“ If — he — is — Starr — Cross,” reasoned the 
Doctor to the widow, “ how — can — he — be — 
Edward — True ; and — if —he — is — Edward — 


284 ^ DOUBLE LIFE. 

T rue — how — can — he — be — Starr — Cross ? and 
— yet — he — may — be — one — or — both. N ew — 
Y ork — is — a — very — wicked — city. They — 
murder — old — men — and — steal — ^young — girls 
— there.” 

On hearing the latter part of the sentence, 
his patient quickly glanced toward the speaker, 
but said nothing. 

A silence fell upon the little company, which 
the sick man broke by saying, “ Please see that 
the note to my lawyer is delivered without 
delay, and whatever is right and proper in the 
premises shall be done. Now you will leave 
me alone, as I wish to get some rest if I can, 
for I am desirous of returning to New York as 
soon as possible.” 

The older woman, without another word, 
left the room. Carrie arose and, with a pitiful 
look and with large tears standing in her mild 
blue eyes, moved towards her husband, but 
stopped half-way at the glance he gave her, 
hesitated a moment, and then went weeping 
away. The Doctor soon followed, and Edward 
True, alias Starr Cross, was left alone. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


OTARR CROSS, who had so unconsciously 
^ acted the part of Edward True, was now 
in his own house. On receiving the note that 
had been sent to him. Squire Largur had has- 
tened to the home of the Brown’s, and on learn- 
ing of the state of affairs had tried to explain 
to the widow and her daughter that the sick 
man was no other than what he represented 
himself to be, and furthermore was in his right 
mind. This the poor woman could not under- 
stand ; if he was Starr Cross, a very wealthy 
man, who resided in an aristocratic part of 
New York, where was their Edward True, who 
so humbly toiled for a living? 

The lawyer was not closeted with Starr a 
great while before he understood the whole 
matter. He had always felt there was some- 
thing mysterious about the man as there had 
been about his father; yet he had never consid- 


286 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


ered Starr a person who would be likely to use 
duplicity, and this accounted for his mystifica- 
tion when he ran against Starr on that visit to 
Mrs. Brown, and the young man did not know 
him. Now the mystery was explained. 

Starr could not fail, in view of the positive 
proof that was presented to him, to admit that 
he must in a semi-somnambulant condition have 
done all that was attributed to him. He felt 
more annoyed at being compelled to make this 
admission than he was in any way grieved at 
the complication that his action had created. 

Dr. Ordway was not so ready to accept the 
explanations and excuses offered in Starr’s be- 
half by the attorney. The fact that Starr was 
rich and lived in New York was against him in 
the estimation of the physician, who could not 
look upon the whole matter in any other light 
than that Starr had been playing two parts. 

Oh, — ” he would say, I — know ; I — know ; 
He — comes — from — New Y ork — where — they 
kidnap — young — girls — if — they — can’t — get — 
control — of — them — by — deception.” 

Starr insisted on being removed to his home, 
and carried his point against the advice of the 
Doctor and the earnest solicitations of the law- 
yer. He refused to see either his wife or child ; 


A DOUBLE LIFE 


287 


but, as he was being conveyed to tne carriage 
waiting for him, it was gentle, loving Carrie 
and her mother who watched him going away 
from them, until the tears blinded their eyes, 
and they could do nothing buttwine their arms 
around each other, and weep. They were be- 
wildered. They could not understand what it 
all meant. They could not comprehend why 
their Edward all at once became some one else. 
It looked as if the whole bitterness of their 
lives was to be given them at once. 

Carrie had begged most pitifully to be al- 
lowed to accompany her husband ; she knew 
he could not be in his right mind, and, if she 
could get him to remain with her or if she could 
go with him, she might win him back to him- 
self and to her. It was then that the weak, 
clinging, ever-loving but timid girl became the 
strong, true, noble and affectionate wife, and 
she said, “ I love my child more than my life, 
yet if he will not let us both go, perhaps he will 
one ; no one will take the care of him that I 
will, and I will leave our Effie with mother and 
follow him.'’ 

All her pleading was in vain ; the attorney 
said that he had no discretion in the premises, 
:but a moisture in his ejes gave proof that Ke 


288 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


recognized a love which he had for over forty 
years contended could not exist in the heart of 
woman. He told her that, should Starr change 
his mind, or become so weak that he himself 
should feel justified in assuming the responsi- 
bility, he would at once notify her, that she 
might go to her husband ; and the sorrow-laden 
woman felt that she had an ally in the old law- 
yer, and that he had acknowledged her right as 
the wife of Starr. 

With all the care exercised, the journey was 
too great a strain upon the weak condition of 
Starr, and he had begun to be delirious again 
even before he arrived at his residence ; on 
being put to bed, he became so decidedly worse 
that the attorney took the responsibility to at 
once despatch a messenger for his wife. 

Largur was now in the house which he had 
so often desired to enter, and as he moved 
through the different rooms, after he left Starr 
in the hands of the doctor and the attendants 
who had been summoned, he was struck with 
the wonders that he beheld, and a feeling crept 
over him that there was something super- 
human and supernatural hanging over the 
whole establishment as well as over its owner. 
He knew that it would not be the wish of his 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


289 


client that the house should be thrown open, 
and, as Starr was no longer able to direct what 
should be done, the attorney felt it his duty to 
see that no more publicity was made than was 
absolutely necessary. 

It was while roaming over the house that he 
ran across Zeno, who had not learned of his 
master’s arrival, but who, on ascertaining the 
state of tilings, talked very freely with the at- 
torney, giving a history of his own life, and ex- 
plaining that, since he had come to himself after 
the death of the Professor, he had been more a 
companion to Starr than any of the other ser- 
vants, and the lawyer, after close questioning, 
was convinced that this might be so. 

When Largur became aware of the full enor- 
mity of Starr’s actions, he was astounded, and 
his indignation at what he considered Starr’s 
encroachments upon the rights of others — so con- 
trary to the principles laid down by Blackstone 
and Kent — was so great that he did not hesitate 
to instruct Zeno to tell all who were held in the 
house against their own will, that they might 
depart. This, Zeno did not dare to do, but 
consented to call them all into a room and let 
the lawyer do as he saw fit. The latter, how- 
ever, concluded that perhaps it would be better 


290 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


to wait a day or two, and see what the result 
of Starr’’s illness might be. He told Zeno to 
have the part of the house, where the subjects 
were kept, closely guarded and to allow no one 
to see them. 

Largur also sent a note to his clerk in which 
he stated that he should not be at the office that 
day, and then, prompted partly by curiosity, 
partly by a desire that everything about the 
dwelling which he thought Starr would not 
wish should be seen should be put away, busied 
himself about the place, until the arrival of 
the wife, who came accompanied by her 
mother. 

She, without waiting to take off her outer 
garments, requested to be immediately con- 
ducted to the room where her husband was, 
and from that time until her presence was no 
longer needed she rarely left the chamber, and 
when she did it was only for a short period, 
always remaining beside his couch, day and 
night, without intermission or rest. What little 
nourishment she took was taken there, and the 
only sleep she had was what she obtained dur- 
ing the intervals' when Starr was quiet in the 
reaction from his wildness. It wore upon her ; 
the color left her cheeks, but she never mur- 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


29 


mured or became impatient. If love and atten- 
tion would win him back to himself, he was sure 
to regain his mind and his health. She thought 
of the strange climax of all her hopes and an- 
ticipations. It occurred to her that, when the 
fever changed, it might be Starr Cross, and not 
her Edward, who would be left; but the prayer 
that ascended to the throne of her God was 
that he might live as Edward, if it were her 
Heavenly Father’s will, yet, if it must be as the 
Starr Cross that so frightened her, that would 
be infinitely better than that he should be taken 
away from her. She would then be his most 
humble slave, if she could be nothing else to 
him. He was more dear to her than her own 
life. She loved him ; loved him more than her 
mother, more than her child ; and who is there 
who can fathom a woman’s love ? The love of 
a true woman is the only ideal heaven that it is 
ordained should be known by mortals; and 
when we know and better understand what 
heaven is, then, and not till then, shall we com- 
prehend that element of woman’s nature, so 
unselfish, so infinite, so incomprehensible, which 
we designate by the name of love. 

O true womanhood ! we bow at thy feet with 
sincere humility, for thou possessest more than 


292 A DOUBLE LIFE. 

all others the elements df that Supreme Being 
who, we have been taught to believe, is all gen- 
tleness and love. 

When the attending physician told them 
that Starr had a very malignant type of 
typhoid fever, Mrs. Brown was anxious that 
her old family doctor should be sent for; and 
after Dr. Ordway had considered the ques- 
tion for a long time, he consented to go to 
the wicked city of New York, and see the 
bad man who had tried to pass himself off 
on good Widow Brown and her daughter 
as some other person than what he really 
was, but he wanted it distinctly understood 
that he came wholly on account of the 
Browns, and not for any other reason. 

The two physicians held a long consulta- 
tion, the result of which was that Dr. Ord- 
way informed the watching women that they 
must prepare for the worst, as there was 
little or no hope of Starr’s recovery. 

No tears came to the eyes of the patient 
wife ; it was no time for tears ; she only 
prayed the more earnestly and watched over 
her husband the more closely. But once a 
day did she now allow herself to see Effie; 
but once a day, and then only for one kiss, 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 293 

one sob, and back she hastened to the bed- 
side of the man she loved so well. 

When Largur heard that the doctors had 
given up all hope of Starr’s recovery, he 
called each of the mesmeric subjects into a 
room and, after learning what he could of 
their life in the house, told them they might 
go. As each one departed, it was not with 
an empty hand ; for the lawyer acted as judge 
and jury, and also as attorney for them whom 
he considered the plaintiffs. There were but 
two exceptions : one was the young girl that 
Starr had caused to be taken from the old 
man at the railway station, and who, the 
lawyer discovered, could not tell where she 
was and did not remember having seen any 
one but her attendant. She surprised the 
attorney by informing him that she was the 
daughter of Dr. Ordway, and he, knowing 
that that gentleman’s daughter had mysteri- 
ously disappeared, thought it best to have 
her removed to her father’s home in the even- 
ing, when she would be less likely to be able to 
distinguish the house where she had been con- 
fined. 

The other exception was Br^te, and as she 
would not come to him, he went to the room 


294 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


where she was sitting and found her in a 
mesmeric state. He could do nothing with 
her; she told him that she was not to return 
to her normal condition till he said so, and 
the lawyer fully understanding whom she 
meant by the pronoun, “ he,” made no further 
effort. 

Time wore on until the day arrived when 
the physicians said that the fever would turn, 
and Starr would probably die. 

“ I don’t think he has vitality enough to 
rally,” was the doctor’s answer to the ques- 
tion of the widow, if there were not some 
hope. 

Starr had been less excitable since the 
night before, and he now lay almost motion- 
less with his eyes closed. The doctor sat 
by his side, with one finger on his pulse, his 
hand lying on the coverlet of the bed. Mrs. 
Brown stood near, half supporting her daugh- 
ter in her arms. The daughter, a hectic flush 
on her cheeks, her lips slightly apart, bent 
forward, her whole life depending upon the 
result. There was that stillness of death 
which is so noticeable around the couch of the 
dying. 

The physician bent over his patient and. 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 295 

placing his ear to Starr’s breast, listened. 
The pulse had grown so weak that there was 
no perceptible movement, and he wished to 
see if the heart had stopped beating, for of this 
he was in doubt. 

He sat back in his chair, and waited ; waited 
to see the eyes open only to shut forever ; 
waited to see the chin fall in death, for he 
had given up even the tiny spark of hope 
which he had kept alive till that time. 

There was a slight movement of the eyelids, 
a perceptible motion of the chest, and the eyes 
of Starr opened, no longer with the fire of 
insanity, but calm and clear. They moved to 
where his wife stood, a soft smile came over 
his face and he whispered, “ My darling.” He 
tried to raise his arms, but he was too weak. 

His wife sprang to his side, and throwing 
herself on her knees, took both his hands in 
hers, and lifting up her eyes, exclaimed : 

My God ! my God ! I thank thee.” 

Looking upon the face of her husband, she 
said softly, “ Edward.” He whispered in return, 
“ My Carrie ;” and the mother of Starr Cross 
had won ! 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


O ITUATED on the Hudson, near the former 
residence of the Browns, is a villa. It 
stands upon an eminence giving a full view of 
the river. 

Let us go within ; there we shall find in the 
library, surrounded by his books, a mild, pleas- 
ant-looking man, thirty-three or four years old. 
He looks more aged, for his hair is nearly 
white and the lines about his mouth indicate 
much physical suffering. 

Sitting near him, and caressing his hand as 
it lies on the arm of his chair, is a blue-eyed 
woman but two or three years his junior 
though she seems much younger. 

These two people we have seen before: there 
are no doubts possible about the identity of 
the lady who is so anxiously watching the 
expression on the gentleman’s face. She is 
easily recognized as the daughter of Widow 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 297 

Brown, and the wife of Edward True ; but, if 
the man was Edward, he was also Starr Cross, 
and jet no look of the Starr Cross of old do 
we discern in his face or surroundings. 

To himself as to his wife who self-sacrifi- 
cingly watched over him in his fever, the man 
Starr Cross died, and only Edward lived. 

They found he could not recall anything 
about his life, excepting that part of it which 
he had lived as Edward. As he grew stronger, 
and was consulted about matters pertaining to 
his other existence, he exhibited at first no 
knowledge of the matter; then, as curiosity was 
aroused, and as time wore on and they told 
him of things that had occurred in his life as 
Starr, he knitted his brows in the same old 
wa}^ and looked perplexed, saying he thought 
he had dreamed something of the kind at some 
time. Seeing that it worried him, they re- 
frained from referring to a subject that was 
productive of no good, and only clouded his 
life. He took no interest in any matter of 
business, and did not care to see or converse 
with any outside of his own little family. So it 
was that Carrie took upon her own shoulders 
the burden of her husband, thankful that he 
was spared to her. 


298 


DOUBLE LIFE. 


It was she who said, “ Don’t you feel well 
enough, Edward, to move back to our old 
home ?” and he answered, “ I do want to see 
the old home again.” So he was moved. 

It was she, too, who did all the business with 
Esquire Largur. The old lawyer, seeing that 
Starr had departed out of his client’s life, and 
only a quiet domestic husband remained, who 
was never happy save when alone with his 
wife and children and their grandmother, and 
that other faces, or any efforts to arouse him to 
consider business matters only troubled him, 
dropped him as a client and adopted his wife in 
his place. 

The old house had been cleared out and 
taken possession of by their attorney. The 
father of Starr, or Edward as we must call him 
now — for he would recognize no other name — 
was found still sitting where the son had left 
him,^ in a room that had been pointed out by 
Zeno, and was quietly interred. The Professor, 
when found, had all the appearance of having 
died from starvation. Luckily the life had for 
a second time passed away from the body of 
the criminal, and the remains had been disposed 
of, before Starr’s operation upon his father. 

The present residence of the True family 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 299 

had been commenced in the hope that it would 
rouse Edward to take more interest in his 
surroundings, but it was without effect. All he 
seemed to wish was to be near his wife and 
children and hear them talk, or to converse 
with them, for now there were two little ones, 
a son having been born a year before, and 
Edward junior insisted upon having the proper 
amount of time devoted to his welfare. 

What about Efhe May, who has now grown 
into a little woman of twelve or thirteen years 
of age ? In her humble way she is as much a 
study as was her father. While she possesses 
all the rare beauty that is so attractive in her 
mother, she has inherited enough of that mar- 
vellous power of influencing other minds from 
her father’s other nature, to seem to fascinate 
every one who comes near her. The com- 
mingling of the heaven-like spirit of her 
mother with the psychological power which 
her father exhibited so strongly in his existence 
as Starr Cross, has resulted in attracting every 
one toward her. Yet it is a power that she is 
not aware of, and let us hope she never will be. 

The children when they discovered the song, 
entitled “ Eflie May,” wefe never tired of 
singing : 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


300 

“ Have you ever heard of Effie, 

Little charming Effie May, 

Whom, ’tis said, a band of angels 
Left upon the earth one day ? 

She’s a blithe and airy creature, 

Bringing sunshine ever near ; 

Lads and lassies love to linger 
In her balmy atmosphere. 

Arms are hers so full of dimples 
That they bear a bracelet’s part, 

Feet that with a sweet pit- patter 
Softly trip upon my heart.” 

Brete, who remained in the same mesmeric 
state long after her master had recovered from 
the fever, was tenderly cared for by his 
thoughtful wife. 

Thirty-four years ago, there died in a club- 
house back of Fourth Avenue, New York, a 
mother, who, knowing the will-power of the 
father of her child, had, so far as she was able, 
tried to neutralize the influence that was acting 
upon that child. 

The father died, and then came the change 
resulting in the good of mankind, for Starr 
Cross was advancing too rapidly towards that 
end at which all mankind will eventually arrive. 

Adieu ! Adieu tb the good, the bad and the 
indifferent herein contained ; adieu to the dead 


A DOUBLE LIFE. 


301 


and to the living we have met ; adieu, a last 
adieu to the happy home by the Hudson ; but 
can we bid adieu to the influence that all this 
has left? Try. 

All is sunshine ! 


THE END. 




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